Mothering Secretly
by Merciful Heavens
Summary: A certain professor is raising her son at Hogwarts. However he is not content to stay in the room and behave...what happens when he is discovered? Chapter 25 is posted... on hiatus for Saved...
1. Mother and Son

Author's Note- I do not own Harry Potter

**Author's Note- I do not own Harry Potter. **

**I do not own these poems. They are the sole property of Robert Louis Stevenson.**

**Please review… how many reviews I gather will tell whether or not I shall continue this story…please enjoy…yes both poets are Scottish…**

_-Prologue- _

_Mother and Son_

A young child picked a book up from the ground and hurried into the other room. His large blue eyes twinkled with excitement as he spotted his mother sitting on the couch. She was going over a stack of papers that to the young boy was a never-ending stack. A sign that his mother was much to busy to read to him. Yet undeterred he silently walked over to her.

"Mama, are you busy?" he asked, innocently. His mother glanced up over her glasses at him.

"What is it?" her voice was the same as he always heard it; soft and patient. He had often wondered why in some stories mothers were depicted as harsh people who never had any fun.

"Could you read to me?" He held the book out in his hands. His mother without hesitation smiled and took the book, carelessly pushing the unfinished work aside.

"Of course." She said gently ruffled his thick black hair.

Opening the book to the well-worn part that she had read so many times that she had it memorized, she began to read.

"_A Good Play_

_By Robert Louis Stevenson,_

_We built a ship upon the stairs,_

_All made of back-bedroom chairs,_

_And filled it full of sofa pillows_

_To go a-sailing on the billows._

_We took a saw and several nails,_

_And water in the nursery pails;_

_And Tom said, "Let us also take_

_An apple and a slice of cake";-_

_Which was enough for Tom and me_

_To go a-sailing on, till tea._

_We sailed along for days and days,_

_And had the very best of plays;_

_But Tom fell out and hurt his knee,_

_So there was no one left but me."_

The little boy smiled as his mother finished. He turned the well-worn page and pointed to the next poem.

"How about that one next?" His mother silently smiled. Although he could not read, her son knew exactly where his favorite things were.

"Two more, all right dear? And then mama has work to do." The boy agreed with a nod.

"_The Land of Story Books_

_By Robert Louis Stevenson_

_At evening when the lamp is lit,_

_Around the fire my parents sit;_

_They sit at home and talk and sing,_

_And do not play at anything._

_Now, with my little gun, I crawl_

_All in the dark along the wall,_

_And follow round the forest track_

_Away behind the sofa back._

_There, in the night, where none can spy,_

_All in my hunter's camp I lie,_

_And play at books that I have read_

_Till it is time to go to bed._

_These are the hills, these are the woods,_

_These are my starry solitudes;_

_And there the river by whose brink_

_The roaring lions come to drink._

_I see the others far away_

_As if in firelit camp they lay,_

_And I, like to an Indian scout,_

_Around their party prowled about._

_So, when my nurse comes in for me,_

_Home I return across the sea,_

_And go to bed with backward looks_

_At my dear Land of Story Books."_

"I like that one better than the other." The child commented, leafing through the book looking for the final poem.

"Why's that, love?" His mother asked watching him over his shoulder.

"His friend doesn't leave him." He answered simply pausing at the poem he wanted.

"This one, please."

"_My Heart's in the Highlands_

_By Robert Burns,_

_My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,_

_My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer -_

_A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;_

_My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go._

_Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North_

_The birth place of Valour, the country of Worth;_

_Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,_

_The hills of the Highlands for ever I love._

_Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow;_

_Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;_

_Farewell to the forrests and wild-hanging woods;_

_Farwell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods._

_My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,_

_My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer_

_Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;_

_My heart's in the Highlands, whereever I go."_

"Thanks for reading to me, Mama." The boy climbed off his mother's lap and kissed her cheek. "I'll go get ready for bed." He hugged the book to his chest and scampered off toward his bedroom.

Sighing deeply his mother looked over at her stack of papers, then reached over and pulled the first one of the stack.

The little boy put the book away as his mother had taught him and pulled his nightshirt out from under his pillow. Slipping it on over his head, he buttoned the two large buttons. Once dressed he made his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"Be sure to wash your hands and feet, Charles!" his mother called from the other room. Charles frowned. But knowing that his mother would not let him go to bed 'dirty', he climbed into the bathtub. Turning the lion shaped knob, he watched as the water began to fill the tub. Soon he had washed his feet and hands. After drying his hands on the hand towel he turned off the water and began to brush his teeth.

Charles had been in bed for a good ten minutes before his mother entered the room to tuck him in. He smiled as she used her wand to light up the dark room and sat by his bed. The enchanted cover began to sing a soft lullaby as the animated dragons on its front and back danced to the tune.

"Could you read one more poem to me?" Charles asked. He had learned early on in his life that he would never get anything from his mother by begging.

"Not tonight, dear." Her soft hand stroked his hair and she pulled the covers up to his chin.

"All right, Mama. Good night." He reached up and wrapped his arms around her neck. She gently kissed his forehead and returned the hug.

"Good night, my little bairn. I love you."

"I love you too." And the light dimmed as the boy slipped off into a world that was composed entirely of his own imagination.

#

TBCPlease review 


	2. Breaking the Rules

Author's Note—Many things will be explained in this chapter…as always I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I wish to and all poetr

Author's Note—Many things will be explained in this chapter…as always I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I wish to and all poetry used in this story belongs to its rightful owners…please review…

_-Chapter I-_

_Breaking the Rules_

The moon twinkled benevolently down on the land. Her silver beams shone into the bedroom that a young boy slept in and sighed gently as a breeze ruffled the red curtains. Lost in a deep slumber, the child gripped his blanket edge tightly. His dreams were happy and content as most young children's dreams are and a small smile had tiptoed its way across his face.

High above the child the ceiling glittered as the many charmed stars twinkled where they had been placed almost seven years prior to that night. They had seen the small room change many times, yet they had remained. It had started out as a nursery with a high walled crib and a red changing table. But in just two years it had been transformed into a muggle sport called soccer themed bedroom with a closet and small round bed. Then but a year later it had changed once more only this time it had become a dragon habitat with dragons on the walls and floor.

Suddenly and without warning the child awoke. His large tired eyes surveyed the room as though he had heard something though no sound had been made. Wiggling out from underneath his cover, he climbed out of the single bed.

Charles walked over to the window and stared out at the trees that he had never seen other than from the window. Sometimes in the day he had seen people walking out by them; but any questions about them were always forgotten before he could ask. His mother had told him in her quiet gentle way that whatever he saw out his window or any other window had nothing to do with him and he was never to wave or interact with them.

He had been outside many times on wonderful picnics and walks with his mother. But she had always taken him someplace else other than where they lived. Once they had been to London, another time Edinburgh; sometimes he didn't ask where they were. After all what did a location matter to a seven-year-old little boy? As long as he had his mother, Charles was quite content to live with the little mysteries of his life.

But there was one mystery Charles just couldn't ignore. He had hardly ever been out of the front door of the room. There were many places to go and play inside of the chambers; but the one door that led out into the unknown had been forbidden. His mother had never told him a reason for its restricted access; but he was fairly sure it was a good one.

Slipping his small slippers on, Charles left his room and peeked into his mother's bedroom. She was fast asleep in her bed; though he knew better than to make any noise, as she was a very light sleeper. Tiptoeing across the sitting room, he soon faced the Forbidden Door.

It loomed in front of him like a piece of candy that he simply had to unwrap. Slowly he reached out and grasped the silver handle. It was cold to the touch and it sent a shiver down his spine as he turned it. Excitement mixed with fear as it began to pull open. Suddenly it slammed shut with a terrible bang and Charles stood stock-still hoping his mother would not wake up.

"Horatio Charles!" His mother said softly, exiting her bedroom and making her way over to her son. He hung his head at his full first name; she only said that when he was in trouble.

"I'm sorry, Mama." He muttered, his eyes filling with tears. The fact that he knew his mother would be disappointed in his lack of obedience was worse than any punishment he could receive.

Gathering her son into her arms, his mother sighed.

"I don't tell you things so that you can ignore them, wee one. Rules are very important and if you break them bad things always happen." Charles shook his head miserably.

"I won't do it again, Mama. I promise."

His mother smiled.

"Now go on back to bed, it's very late and you'll be tired tomorrow if you don't get enough sleep." Charles nodded vigorously and hurried back into his room. He barely missed his mother whisper several locking charms over the Forbidden Door.


	3. Accidental Disobedience

-Chapter 3-

_-Chapter 3-_

_Accidental Disobedience_

As usual a house elf had brought Charles his breakfast and he had begun to eat it at the sitting room coffee table while watching television. It was a fascinating device to be sure, with lots of things that his mother could never figure out how to work. Thankfully, Charles had learned how to use it by the tender age of three. He had always found it hard to understand how his mother could be so good with magic but fumble terribly when it came to simple things like TV.

"Does Master Charles be wanting more to eat?" asked Yinny, the house elf that helped Charles the most. Charles shook his head and Yinny disappeared with his finished breakfast dishes. It had always intrigued him that Yinny had been able to disappear. But then again he had always wondered more where he went than how he did it. 

Using the remote to turn of the boring program, Charles rose from the floor. He could hear his mother dressing in the other room. The clock next to the television states in bold digital letters that it was 6 am; his mother would leave at 30 past and return around lunchtime.

He knew what she did during the time, but frankly was so un-intrigued with her occupation that it had never really interested him. She was a professor in the school that the room was apart of. Once when he had been younger she had taken him on a tour around the large school, he didn't remember very much of it.

"Charles, are you going to be all right here today?" His mother asked. She never seemed to notice that she had said those same words every weekday morning since he was three. Before then a house elf, mainly Yinny, had taken care of him while she taught her classes.

"I'll be fine, Mama." He muttered, turning to give her a hug. His lovely mother had transformed from sweet, gentle fragile woman he usually saw into a taunt, strict strong professor who he assumed everyone but him saw. Charles always liked his mother the way she was with him. Her long wavy hair smelled wonderful and he loved to sit on her lap and snuggle into it. The glasses that she only wore to read made her look older.

"You look prettier with you hair down, Mama." His mother knelt down in front of him and hugged him close.

"I can't look pretty when I teach, darling." Her large green eyes captured his blue ones and he smiled.

"I know. I love you."

"I love you too." With a loving kiss to his forehead, his mother rose and strode over to the Forbidden Door. "If you need anything, call for Yinny."

Charles nodded and watched as his mother disappeared into a hallway that led to the unknown.

By lunchtime, Charles was becoming quite restless. House elves did not play games very well and he didn't have the patience to teach Yinny how to play better. After several short games of solitaire, he flicked through the television channels for a few minutes. Nothing that he wanted to watch was on.

Walking over to the game cupboard, Charles put away the cards and pulled out ball. It only took five bounces of the wall to bore him. Nothing was very interesting today. Entering his bedroom, Charles gazed out the window at the forest and the lake that was supposed to have a giant squid in it. He was just about ready to resign himself to eating lunch when he noticed a boy standing by the lake.

Curious, Charles stared out at the boy. Although he was quite a ways away from him, Charles was able to pick out a few of the boy's more prominent features. Messy black hair and large glasses were just about the extent of what he saw.

Suddenly, the boy turned around and faced the castle. Charles without even thinking ducked to avoid being seen. Then he scampered out of his bedroom and ran over to the large window in the sitting room. Peeking out through the thick curtains, he saw the boy still gazing in his general direction. When the boy waved at him, Charles felt his heart soar. He had always wanted a friend. House elves and a gold fish never were the same as the friends that were in stories. So Charles raised his hand above his head and waved back. A smile lit his face as the boy waved again. He had been seen.


	4. The Boy in the Window

-Chapter 4-

_-Chapter 4-_

_The Boy in the Window_

Just as he had returned the wave, realization sunk into his mind. One thing he was never suppose to do was let people see him. Charles hid behind the curtain and waited until the boy walked away. Sighing deeply, he called for Yinny and sunk down to wait for his lunch.

His mother was right on time to eat with him and seemed a bit agitated about something. As soon as she had closed the Forbidden Door and whispered the locking charms, she began to unpin her long luxurious hair. Charles watched her melt down into her usual self with hidden glee then scooted over so she could sit next to him.

Gathering her son into her embrace, his mother sat down on the floor. Her wonderful scent calmed his slightly worried mind and he snuggled closer to her.

"How was your morning, love?" she asked, casually.

"Fine." He said quickly reaching out to grab her plate for her.

"Are you all right?" His mother had caught the fear in his voice. Thinking quickly, Charles hung his head.

"I broke one of my toys." He lied, knowing she would dismiss it as harmless and ask to see it.

"Oh, that's nothing to be worried about, wee one. Bring it here and I'll fix it." Charles nodded and stood up from her warm embrace.

Once in his room, Charles got down on his hands and knees and pulled one of his many toys out from underneath his bed. It was in perfect running order but with a few hard pulls and twists, he had the perfect broken toy. Hating himself for lying to his mother, Charles exited the bedroom with the toy in hand.

His mother had left to teach another class only minutes after finishing her lunch and Charles was left with nothing to do but brood over his past actions. First he had waved at a boy he wasn't even supposed to see; then he had lied to his mother about it. What would he find himself doing next?

Charles let his mind wander for a moment and suddenly without warning his eyes both fell on the Forbidden Door. He knew that his mother kept it locked with several charms; all of which he had no idea how to break. No, he would not disobey her again, he reasoned.

A quick nap helped his guilty conscious greatly and hardly after an hour had passed since lunch, Charles had forgotten all about the boy and the lie. Such is the beauty of being a child.

Looking over at the window, Charles strode over to it. A quick peep out wouldn't be very exciting, but then again lying on his bed and watching charmed stickers blink was not very amusing either. Pulling back the heavy fabric, Charles gazed out at the wood and lake. The boy and another boy were by the lake. This other boy had messy red hair and no glasses. Both seemed to be staring at him.

Charles pulled away from the window and went back to watch TV. However as he reached over to flick the set on; he noticed that the Forbidden Door was not closed all the way. Hurrying over to assess the situation, Charles realized that in her haste to not be late for her classes, his mother had not locked the door. With a quick glance either way down the empty hallway, Charles slipped out into the unknown.


	5. The Trio

-Chapter 5-

_-Chapter 5-_

The Trio

Charles cautiously made his way down the hallway. On either side there were portraits and a variety of different suits of armor, so he had no trouble keeping out of sight. Adrenaline throbbed through his veins as he heard voices up ahead. Hunkering down behind a large suit of armor, he waited for the people to appear.

The two men that were talking were both tall; although they seemed to lose all things in common from that point on. While one seemed kind and his happy eyes twinkled; the other scowled and his eyes seemed to glare more than stare. The scowling one wore black robes that matched his greasy black hair amazingly well. It almost hurt Charles eyes to look at the happy man's robes. Bright purple with millions of shining stars sprinkled all over the fabric made up his robes.

"Severus, my boy." The purple robed man was saying. His long white beard bobbed cheerfully as he spoke. "You simply can't take a hundred points from a student for a prank." It was obvious to Charles that he was greatly enjoying the conversation with the black haired man.

"Headmaster, the prank was on a professor, can I remind you, and therefore should not have been tolerated." His voice was deep and scary, reminding Charles instantly of every bad person on TV he had every seen combined.

"Oh, loosen up a little, professor. It was only a whoopee cushion." Charles almost laughed at the image that the headmaster's comment made. Some student had used a whoopee cushion on the black haired professor.

_I wonder what he teaches?_ Charles wondered watching to two men pass out of his sight. _Probably math._

Continuing his trek down the hallway, Charles smiled at his fortune. The adventure that he was having made TV seem dull. Laughter floated down from the end of the hallway and he hid once more.

"Can you believe he took a hundred points for that?" Someone scoffed. Charles peered out from behind a decoration piece to see that the speaker had been a boy with bright red hair. A black haired boy with glasses and a girl with curly brown hair accompanied him. Charles immediately recognized the two boys as the ones by the lake and smiled.

"Yeah, Snape is nothing but a overstepping git anyway. If Professor McGonagall hadn't heard him shout he would have taken all those points plus a detention." The black haired boy put in.

"Harry, she couldn't make him change his mind. We'll still get detentions. Why did you have to use such an obvious thing? A whoopee cushion with Ron's name on it?" The girl rolled her eyes.

"How were we suppose to know that my mum had written my name on it?" The boy called Ron said defensively. Harry smiled.

"We may have got detentions but the look of his face was worth it." All three stopped to savor the memory, before they all burst out laughing.

"What was even better was him trying to explain it to Professor McGonagall." The girl laughed wiping tears from her eyes.

Ron took a deep breath.

"Yeah. 'Um…it was a wow pad…I mean a yahoo pillow'" he stuttered reenacting what the professor had said. "Even Professor McGonagall knew what it was called!"

The threesome continued on down the hallway and disappeared from sight. Afraid to lose the people who had waved at him and curious to see where they had gone, Charles followed after them. He passed through several rooms with several other students in them, but no one saw him.

Finally the three children exited a large door that led outside. Charles froze. There was no way he could follow them without being seen. Taking a deep breath and hoping that there were some bushes by the door, Charles stepped outside.

There were no bushes or trees close enough for him to hide behind. Charles got down on his hands and knees and crawled over to the wall, hoping the trio in front of him wouldn't turn around. Being careful to stay behind trees and rocks, Charles followed them to the lake.

Suddenly he had nowhere to hide and the girl turned around.

"Hello, who are you?" she asked nicely. Petrified Charles stared at her.

"He looks a little young to be a student." Ron commented taking step toward the frozen young boy.

"_If anyone ever finds you, tell them your name is Matthew and you're my nephew." _His mother's words echoed through his mind. She had been very careful about things that could happen. At the time it had been fun answering the questions she had asked him, question that she had already told him the right answers to.

"What's your name?" Harry asked bending slightly so he was eye to eye with Charles.

"Matthew, but everyone calls me Mattie." Charles said easily once he had cleared his throat. So far everything his mother had told him was crystal clear in his memory.

"What are you doing here?" the girl asked softly, smiling.

"I am visiting my aunt."

"Who's your aunt?" Ron asked. Charles hesitated slightly.

"Minerva McGonagall." Charles sighed as they gaped at him. It was clear to him that his mother acted as stern as she looked in her teacher's regalia.

"Who are you?" Charles asked, trying to appear friendly and succeeding.

"I'm Hermione and this is Ron and Harry. We're third years."

"Third what?" He asked alarmed.

"We've been coming to Hogwarts for three years now. How old are you?" Hermione smiled again and Charles decided he liked her.

"I'm seven. Is it true that there is a giant squid in the lake?" Charles asked changing the topic of the conversation.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah. It's quite old, but it is still there." Ron opened his mouth to doubtless ask a question, but Charles beat him to it.

"Do you all like school?" Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess so. Professor Snape makes potions dull. But its fine beside that."

"You mean Snape and McGonagall." Ron put in, folding his arms. Hermione cleared her throat and motioned toward Charles but Ron failed to notice.

"Between having those two teachers and the war, I'll never finish."

Curiosity coursed through Charles and without even thinking he asked a question.

"What war?"

The trio's mouths all fell open as though he had asked what a human was.

TBC

Please review if you read this…if you see any mistake please point them out…I would love to correct anything I missed.


	6. The Trouble with Lies

-Chapter 6-

_-Chapter 6-_

The Trouble with Lies

Charles had to admit that he found it amusing to watch the trio stand with their mouths open, staring at him; but it lasted only till the red headed Ron spoke.

"You don't know about the war with You-Know-Who?" He asked basically reiterating the whole reason they were all silent.

"Should I?" Charles questioned. Harry shook his head in disbelief.

"Yes, you should. How could you not have heard about it? Everyone talks about it and…" he trailed off as realization struck him. "Your parents are muggle born aren't they?"

The young boy sought out the answer to the seemed simple question.

"No." Charles shrugged trying to act like he didn't really care; though his heart rate had quickened greatly since the beginning of the conversation.

"Do they do magic?" Ron asked. Charles shrugged again.

"No." That was lie, if he had ever told one. His mother used magic from everything to brushing her hair to opening doors. But Charles saw no reason to tell the other children that.

"So how long are you staying here?" Hermione asked, ignoring the fact that 'Mattie' seemed nervous; she reasoned he was simply not used to being there at Hogwarts.

"Um…a little while." Charles breathed. He glanced around hoping to see his mother coming to his rescue. Needless to say he saw nothing.

"What's Professor McGonagall like?" Ron asked, anxious to uncover whether or not one of his least liked professors was the same all the time. Charles smiled.

"My aunt is a really nice, gentle caring person. Why?" Hermione gave Ron a glare that he couldn't have missed and turned back to Charles.

"We're just used to her being quite strict when she teaches." Hermione announced gently.

"She is." Charles nodded to show he meant it. "But that doesn't mean that she's not nice." The trio nodded silently.

"Does she laugh?" Ron asked skeptically.

Charles nodded easily. For a moment he had a brief image of him telling exactly how his 'aunt' acted, but then it faded. It would be too difficult to say without giving away too much.

"So you're just visiting her, why?" Harry leaned back against a tree he had sat down by.

"My mum and dad are taking a holiday and I didn't want to go. So I got to come here and stay with Auntie Minerva." Ron burst out laughing at the mention of 'Auntie Minerva.'

"What's so funny?" Charles knew the reason for Ron's outburst but thought it best to feign ignorance.

"Ron finds it funny that you called Professor McGonagall Auntie. Ron, apologize!" Hermione hissed poking the still laughing boy in the ribs. The laughter ceased immediately as Ron turned beet red.

"Sorry." He muttered, obviously embarrassed. Charles shrugged.

"It's okay."

"What are your parents?" asked Hermione, taking a seat on the grass by Harry. Charles sighed to cover the panic that was issuing in his mind. His mother had never mentioned what his so-called parents were supposed to be. Then again, he was not supposed to talk to people. Latching onto the memory of his real aunt and uncle, Charles answered.

"My mum designs houses. She doesn't know about magic. My dad is a lawyer but he is a good one not a bad one." Harry smiled at this comment. "My dad can't do magic but he should be able to."

"He's a squib?" Ron shouted causing Harry and Hermione to glare at him.

"Yeah, I guess so. But I can do magic because it skipped him. He wants me to come to Hogwarts some day." Charles was amazed at how simple it was to pretend to be his cousin. He had met the boy once, but the memory was fairly fuzzy. Mattie McGonagall was indeed a wizard, but he would never come to Hogwarts as between his mother being a muggle and his father a squib, he had ignored his letter.

"It must be neat being at Hogwarts for the first time. Who have you met?" Harry asked.

"No one." Charles answered truthfully. The trio stared at him for a second before Hermione spoke.

"Your aunt is probably to busy to show you around just yet. I'm sure this weekend she'll introduce you to the staff."

Charles pretended to be excited about the prospect but really felt disappointed. He had lived in Hogwarts almost all his life and he had seen nothing that the three third years in front of him had.

"Well, I have to be getting back to my aunt's room before she misses me." He turned to go.

"Okay, bye Mattie. Will we see you tomorrow?" Harry called out, waving.

Without even thinking, Charles answered.

"Sure."

**The next chapter has already been written, so very sorry for the delay…writer's block…**

Please review and or tell me mistakes I may or may have not made… 


	7. Lemon Drops

-Chapter 7-

_-Chapter 7-_

_Lemon Drops_

The hallway was empty as Charles made his way back to his mother's room. His heart had begun to calm slightly since nothing had happened. Curiosity forced him to take his time to examine the features of the hallway; so his progress was slow.

He had stopped for a moment to examine a strange looking stone statue that stood in front of a door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Stifling the scream he had almost let out, Charles turned slowly to look up into the twinkling blue eyes of the Headmaster. His mouth opened and hung like it had lost its hinges.

"Good afternoon!" the man said cheerfully, causing Charles to feel a bit more at ease. He closed his mouth and returned the greeting.

"Good afternoon." His response was softer but had the same amount of sincerity that the older man had had.

"I was looking for a young man like you." The Headmaster said, smiling. Charles stared at him as though he had taken leave of his senses.

"You were looking for me?" He stuttered.

"Not exactly you, but you will do fine. Can you eat candy?" Charles nodded silently. _Of_ _course I can eat candy,_ he thought confused.

"Good then, shall I show you what you can help me with?" Charles nodded.

The Headmaster rose up to his full stature.

"Chocolate frogs!" he said clearly. Much to Charles great delight, the stone statue leaped aside and the door opened. Ushering him through the door, the Headmaster took him up a flight of moving steps. Charles laughed out loud at the thrill of almost floating up the staircase and the Headmaster soon joined in his laughter.

"I remember when I first went up these stairs. I had so much fun that if I remember correctly I did it again fifty times. The Headmaster at that time found it amusing."

"Really?" Charles exclaimed, amazed. It seemed hard to believe that the Headmaster of Hogwarts could act so childishly.

"Here we are, my office." The Headmaster pushed the door open and the two of them entered the spacious room.

Charles immediately liked it. The whole office smelt of lemon and chocolate while the office itself lacked the serious décor of a normal office. Bright purple chairs and an orange couch sat at one end of the office, while a well-polished large desk sat in front of the huge window. The desk was covered with stacks of papers and letters held down by odd paperweights such as tins of candy and odd-looking trinkets.

"Care to take a seat?" The Headmaster asked, motioning for Charles to sit on the couch. He obliged the man and sat. It was obvious that the Headmaster was either insane or either extremely eccentric. Charles found that he didn't really mind.

"Now for a few questions to see it you qualify for the job." Dumbledore settled into the orange chair across from Charles and adopted a mock serious look on his face. It was so comical that soon Charles found himself roaring with laughter.

"So you find it funny that work must be done?" The Headmaster asked, laughter tainted the serious tone of voice he failed to use. Charles quieted down and shook his head.

"Good. Now your name would be the first thing to check off."

Charles sighed. He would love to tell the wonderful man across from him the truth, but his mother had been quite firm about it.

"Mathew McGonagall. But you can call be Mattie." The Headmaster raised his large white eyebrows.

"Mattie McGonagall! You're Minerva's nephew. I thought I saw a resemblance. Does your aunt know that you've been touring Hogwarts?" The twinkle in his eye showed Charles clearly that he knew the answer.

"Um…no…but I'm sure she'd understand."

"Yes, I'm sure she would." For a moment, the Headmaster stared at Charles, his usual twinkle replaced by an unknown emotion. Then he smiled and the twinkle returned.

"Now about that job. How old are you?"

"I just turned seven."

"What was your last job and why did you leave it?" Charles chuckled at the game they were apparently playing.

"I used to sneak around schools until you offered me this job." The Headmaster doubled over with amusement. It took several full minutes before they were both able to stop laughing and continue.

"Now I think you qualify for the job. I have been doing an experiment and I need another person's advice. Which of the three candies here do you find the best?" He held out three different candies for Charles to take. It took Charles no more than a second to point of his favorite.

"The lemon drop!"

The Headmaster smile grew.

"It seems as though my experiment was successful. The lemon drop always scored highest." Charles stuck the candy into his mouth and relished the sweet yet slightly sour flavor. It had always been his favorite candy since he had been very young.

"Good?" The Headmaster asked. Charles shook his head. "Well, then help yourself to the tin." He motioned over to desk and brought it over with wandless magic.

"Oh yes. It's delicious. Thank you!" a chuckle answered him.

"You are very welcome, Mattie. But thank you for helping me out." He finished by calling out for a house elf. "What goes better with candy than hot chocolate?" Charles beamed. This day was getting better and better. That was until the house elf appeared.

Yinny did a double take when he saw Charles and exclaimed with a squeak.

"Master Charles!"

**TBC**


	8. Jealousy

_-Chapter 8-_

_Jealously_

Charles almost choked on the lemon drop in his mouth as he heard Yinny call him by his name. He turned to see the Headmaster's face twist with confusion and then an idea made itself known in his mind. He had been named after his uncle, the real Mattie's father, and though Yinny would have never met his uncle, Charles hoped Dumbledore wouldn't know that.

"No, Yinny. My dad's not here. I'm Mattie." He stressed the name Mattie, though he was certain that Yinny would ignore him.

"Me's being sorry, Master Mattie. I's was thinking you as Master Charles." And then after setting down a tray laden with hot chocolate and a large cake, Yinny disappeared with a plop. Charles sighed with relief; oblivious to the look Dumbledore was giving him.

"Hot chocolate?" Dumbledore asked, holding one of the steaming cups out to him. Charles nodded and accepted it gratefully. After the scare he had just been through, he needed the chocolate more than ever.

"How long will you be visiting your aunt, Mattie?" Charles shrugged. He had a slight feeling of deja vu. The trio had asked almost the same question.

"Until my parents get back." The cocoa was perfectly heavenly and Charles found himself enjoying it greatly. Something about the beverage mystified him though; he could have sworn he had had it before, yet he couldn't remember where or when.

"How do you like being here at Hogwarts?" Charles smiled.

"I really like it. Home is boring." Dumbledore chuckled. He set his cup down and leaned back in his cozy even if strange chair. Charles found it funny that his long white beard was slung over his shoulder, but said nothing. He liked this strange funny man; he wasn't used to people like him, but it would be fun.

"What do you do here?" He asked, finishing his drink and setting it down. Dumbledore chuckled softly and sighed.

"I answer letters and eat lemon drops and chocolate frogs. I placate Professor Snape whenever a student upsets him and help students whenever he upsets them."

"That sounds like fun. Do all headmasters do that?" Dumbledore shook his head.

"No, some are firm believers in never doing anything but work; they usually dig themselves into an early grave. Then others can't stand work and fail terribly because their poor deputy has to do everything. See Mattie my boy, it's all about balance."

Charles nodded. His mother had taught him to be balanced; though he had never really found it useful.

A knock issued from the closed door and Dumbledore smiled.

"It seems as though your aunt is at the door." Charles paled and swallowed. If his mother caught him here; she would have a heart attack that was after she had thoroughly spanked him. Dumbledore patted Charles on the head and motioned for him to stand.

"Don't worry, Mattie. I won't tattle on you. Climb under my desk and she won't see you. But you must be very quiet." Charles nodded and without hesitation, climbed underneath the large desk.

The space was fairly large and he was able to get himself comfortable easily. Dumbledore sat down in his chair and winked at him. "She'll be in, in a moment."

"Enter." He announced. Charles heard the door open and from under the desk's bottom he could see his mother approach the desk.

She looked quite upset about something and if took all of Charles self-control to not crawl out from underneath the desk and comfort her. His mother often came back to her room upset. Tears would shimmer in her green eyes as she pulled him into her loving embrace and he would always comfort her. In a world where all they had were each other; it was very important.

"My dear, you seem troubled about something." Dumbledore said, gently offering her the chair by the front of the desk. She took the seat and sighed.

"Albus, I have almost had it with those boys." Her soft voice was lined with pain and sorrow, causing Charles to sit up.

"Ah, the Weasley boys, Minerva?" She nodded silently. Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked over to her side. Kneeling down in front of her he looked her in the eye.

"What happened?" As his mother told the Headmaster all that had happened in the last hour, Charles sat under the desk and boiled over with jealousy. _It's my job to comfort her. She tells me what happened. I help her, not you._ His thoughts mostly aimed at Dumbledore were painful. Now he wished that he had stayed in the room and watched television.

Suddenly he didn't care if his mother became angry with him, he only wanted her. Charles rose up from his sitting position and was moments away from climbing out from underneath the desk, when another knock issued from the door. Pulling back, Charles peeped out to see a student enter the office. He had some sort of badge on the front of his uniform and was out of breath.

"Professor McGonagall! Harry and Draco are fighting in the hallway!" The student exclaimed. His mother rose up from her chair and at once adopted the stern façade that she had dropped while talking to Dumbledore.

"I'll be right there, Mr. Weasley." His mother said evenly, addressing the student.

Charles watched the door close as Dumbledore dismissed the prefect. His attention turned back to his mother who was standing not far from her chair.

"I have to go, Albus. Thank you." Dumbledore patted her arm, comfortingly and sighed.

"I'll see if I can get those two to calm down with the pranks. But keep in mind that they're only trying to have fun." His mother nodded, though he was certain she hadn't heard a word the kind man had said.

"Tabby, it'll be fine." And upon hearing those last words, his mother slipped out of the office.

"Now, Mattie. I believe it's time for you to return to your rooms before your aunt does." Charles climbed out from underneath the desk. Though he tried hard to smile at the man and act normally; the jealously he still felt was eating at him. With his arms crossed and a deep frown darkening his face, Charles allowed the man to lead him back to his mother's room.

**TBC- please review**

**(A/N- I couldn't remember if Percy was a prefect in the trio's third year or not-so just bear with me)**


	9. Guessing the Unknown

-Chapter 9-

Guessing Truth

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and young Charles McGonagall made their way down the empty hallway. Every once and a while a student would appear and Charles would simply slip behind the headmaster's large robes. If any of the students had seen him; they hadn't said anything.

"Here we are, Mattie. Now would you happen to know your aunt's password?" Charles looked up at the Forbidden Door and swallowed hard. Not only did he not now the password; but he had not even known that there was a password.

"No." He mumbled, still angry about what had happened up in the office. The Headmaster and the students of Hogwarts got his mother all day long; he only got her when she read to him or played with him at night. It wasn't fair.

"Well, then. I guess we'll just have to try to think of something she might use as a password." Charles nodded at the man's logic. Must as he hated to admit it; the man was smart.

"It might be Ginger Snaps, she likes those." Charles ventured. The Headmaster shook his head.

"No, she is not like me. Minerva would pick something that no one would guess that easily. How about listing off your mother and father's names?"

Charles said nothing as the Headmaster bent down to face him. He felt guilty for being angry with the man; as he had nothing but kind to him. He wasn't used to people in general; his mother was nothing like Dumbledore and Yinny wasn't really the example of most of the human race. They were the only people he had ever done anything with till today.

"Is something wrong, Mattie?" Dumbledore asked, seriously. Charles looked up from the floor to see his eyes fixed on him. The twinkle that seemed to bring certain cheerfulness to the man was gone; replaced by a firm yet gentle purpose. The Headmaster was a man who was easily thought of as a crazy old man who had an obsession with lemon drops; yet beneath the twinkling eyes and eccentricness, he had a deeper quality.

"I'm not sure." Charles muttered, truthfully.

He wanted to tell the man everything. His desire to see the unknown that had always loomed on the other side of the forbidden door. His disobedience to his mother by trying to exit the room; and the guilt he had felt after being caught. His boredom from having nothing to do all morning and the excitement he had experienced after seeing the boy wave to him from the lake. His confusion at why he was never allowed to do certain things and finally he wanted to beg the man for answers to his many unasked questions. But he couldn't.

Dumbledore laid a large hand on his shoulder and tilted his chin up to face him again.

"What aren't you sure about?" The question was one of those questions that few know the answer to. What was he not sure about? Life in general; or just his life in general?

"I just don't know the password." He lied. Dumbledore smiled and the twinkle returned to his blue eyes.

"Well, you needn't worry about that. We'll come up with it sooner or later." Dumbledore straightened and stared hard at the door.

"Try saying your parents' names."

"Charles McGonagall. Winifred May McGonagall." He said softly, repeating his aunt and uncle's names out loud as he had done in his head. The door did not open.

"Try your name." Dumbledore suggested. He was leaning against the wall now and munching on a lemon drop. Charles smiled as he took the offered candy and said his presumed name.

"Matthew John McGonagall." The door did not open.

For a brief while the two "men" stood by the closed door and happily munched on lemon drops trying to think of the password. Suddenly while he was swallowing his ninth lemon drop, Charles had it. His name would have made it to simple for him; so it had to be from one of the poems his mother read to him. His mother enjoyed _My Heart's in the Highlands _the best and would doubtlessly use that for a password. Only, he paused for a second to finish his tenth lemon drop and swallow it, she would have said it the way she read it to herself; in Scottish Gaelic.

"I think I've got it." Charles declared happily, tugging on Dumbledore's robe. The man smiled and nodded.

"I figured you would. Well?"

"It could be from my aunt's favorite poem, _My Heart's in the Highlands. _But I think it would be in Gaelic." Dumbledore blinked but said nothing.

"I presume you speak Gaelic?" He asked finally. Charles shrugged. He knew how to say some things such as I love you and Good night, but that was about it.

"Not really."

"Which part do you think it would from?"

"The first part."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled.

"Then I'll have to say it. Lemon drop?"

Charles took the eleventh lemon drop and stared at the man. He spoke Scottish Gaelic and knew _My Heart's in the Highlands! _What kind of a person was he?

Dumbledore began to mutter the Gaelic words to the door, fascinating Charles by how fluent he sounded. Finally he finished and both looked expectantly at the door, which did not open.

"_Mac Horatio_." Dumbledore muttered. The door opened and the Headmaster steered the shocked boy into the room and closed the door behind him.

Charles stared at the door with a shocked expression on his face. Translated 'mac' meant son and Horatio, well, that was his real first name. How had Dumbledore known that? A plop sounded behind him and Charles turned to see Yinny standing there with a tray of food.

"Its being time for supper for you, Master Charles." The house elf set the tray laden with fruit and a tasty looking supper down and looked expectantly at his young master.

"It looks fine, Yinny. Thank you."

"Will you being need anything else, Master Charles?" He shook his head.

The house elf slipped the tray out from underneath the food and vanished into thin air. Charles climbed onto the couch and tucked his chin under his folded arms. He was going to tell his mother what had happened that day.

**Please review**


	10. Confession

_-Chapter 10-_

_Confession_

The sun had already sunk beneath the earth's sheath by the time Charles' mother returned to her rooms. Her son had waited for her, silently seated on the couch; his mouth set into a determined line. The door closed magically behind the tired woman and she sunk into an armchair sighing deeply. Upon seeing her son she smiled and beckoned for him to come over to her.

Rising up from the couch, Charles approached his mother. Trepidation was showing in the form of sweat on his forehead and by the nervous biting of his lip. His mother ignored the tell tale signs of guilt, however, and pulled him into her loving embrace. Her small hands brushed his thick black hair back from his face. Parent and child sat in the armchair seemingly content.

"Mama?" Charles started, softly. His mother nodded tenderly and pulled him closer into her embrace.

"I am so sorry about last night, love." Tears shone in her dark green eyes and reinforced the guilt that Charles felt gnawing at him. "I shouldn't have been so very hard on you, darling." She offered no defense only sorrow and it hurt Charles badly.

"I was wrong, Mama. Not you." He wrapped his arms around her slender neck, pressing his face up against her chest.

"What's wrong, Charles? Did something happen while I was away?" Alarm showed in her eyes and she tilted his face up to look at her.

"I left the room." He stammered, tears forming in his eyes. His mother froze as though time's current had suddenly ceased to flow and Charles wished instantly that he could have taken back those words and replaced them with something else.

"What?" She breathed, growing pale. Her tight embrace on her son melted and her body leaned back against the chair back.

"I found the door open a bit, so I went down the hallway." Charles climbed out of his mother's lap and took her hands in his. "Are you ok, Mama?" Her eyes were closed and her breathing faint.

"Did anyone see you?" she asked so softly that he had to lean forward to hear her. He swallowed. She had taken it badly enough that he had left the room; it might kill her to hear that he had spoken with four people. Charles had a dilemma.

"Um…I didn't let anyone see me, but I saw a few people." Charles sniffed back the sob that was forming in his throat and looked straight into his mother's pained eyes. "I…I went outside and three people saw me." He paused and looked up to see what his mother would say. When she said nothing he continued. "Their names were Harry, Ron, Hemion or something like that. They were really nice and so I told them what you told me to tell people. I was your nephew and I was visiting you for a while." Taking a breath and finding it easier to talk then he had thought, Charles continued.

"I was coming back to the room, when I met a really nice man who wanted me to do a job for him. So he took me to his office and gave me candy and hot chocolate. Yinny came in the middle but he didn't do anything." The young boy trailed off as tears began to make their way down his mother's face.

"Are you okay, Mama?" he asked, frantically rushing over to retrieve her a handkerchief.

"Oh, Charles." She whispered, between gasps for air. Her hands were shaking badly and her tears had begun to torrent down her paling cheeks. Charles had never seen his mother so upset before. Wrapping his arms around her, he tried to comfort her, but her crying only escalated into sobbing. Suddenly the boy felt his mother go limp and he looked down to see her head fall back. She had fainted dead away.

Almost hysterical with concern, Charles patted her hands and fanned her, trying desperately to wake her. Above the couch, the clock chimed declaring that the time was 7 o'clock and the boy looked around in the gathering dark for something to help his mother with. Finally given into despair, the boy laid his head on his mother's lap and cried himself slowly off to sleep. His dreams were full of images of angry people and the constant thought that he never should have told his mother about the events of that day.

* * *

The next morning found both beds of the bedchambers empty and the occupants of the room both asleep in the sitting room. The mother, who usually awoke at that time and began to dress, lay back in a large armchair, her eyes closed. By her feet, kneeling and fast asleep was her son, who usually slept in his bed until his mother woke him. His head was resting on his mother's lap and his hair was messy from his sleep.

Yawning the boy lifted his head up from his mother's lap. His eyes were crusted from sleep and he had to rub them before he could see clearly. At first he just stared around him as though he could not figure out why he was seated on the sitting room floor. Then it struck him and he slowly stood up.

"Mama? Are you all right?" Charles shook the sleeping woman slightly, delighted when she moaned. "Mama?" She opened her eyes and blinked in the dim light. The curtains were still drawn over the window but several streams of light peered into the room from the edge around the curtains.

"Charles?" Her voice was weak causing Charles to be concerned. "Why are you dressed?" Charles looked down to find that he was still in his clothes from yesterday and bit his lip. His mother was also still in her teaching robes from yesterday.

"We both fell asleep out here. You fainted." His mother's eyes widened slightly, but no sound issued from her mouth.

"I'll help you to your bed." The boy wrapped an arm around his mother's slight waist and helped her up from the chair. She leaned heavily against him; but he was able to keep her upright.

"I have classes today." She muttered, as they slowly made their way into her bedroom. Charles said nothing as he pulled back the made bed and helped her underneath the think red and gold coverlet. _Mama can't teach today._ He thought frantically as he arranged the pillow under her head. Her hair was still partly up in its bun, so he pulled out the remaining pins and tucked the loose hair under her head.

"Can't you take a day off?" He already knew the answer to his question; but then again it never hurt to ask.

"No, I have to teach today." Her hand searched along the covers for her wand and Charles hurried back into the sitting room to fetch it.

"Here." He gave her the polished wand and helped her sit up. After whispering several things that Charles couldn't understand and didn't see anything occur because of them, his mother dropped the wand.

"I can't do it." Tears began to stain her white cheeks once more and Charles hung his head.

"This is all my fault. I'm so sorry Mama." He threw himself on her bed and began to cry. If he had stayed inside and been a good little boy, as he had been told, none of this would have happened. Yet he never would have met Dumbledore or the three students. Was having met them worth his mother's health? Charles cried more and felt even worse as the whole reality of the situation dawned on him.

"There, there, love." His mother soothed. Her hand slowly rubbed his back and he crawled over to fall into her embrace. They lay back against the pillows of the bed for some time before a knock echoed through the room interrupting them.

"Who is that?" Charles asked, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve. His mother shrugged helplessly and then smiled.

"Just go to your room and shut the door, love. I'll be fine." Charles nodded and automatically made his way to his bedroom. He went to close the door but stopped. _What if Mama needs me?_ He thought suddenly._ I can't help her with the door closed._ He left it open a crack and knelt down so he could see out of it.

His mother slowly made her way to the door and opened it, as it had not been charmed the night before. Even though he could only see the man's long white beard and the hem of a purple robe, Charles knew instantly who it was. He pressed his ear up against the door crack and listen intently.

"Are you feeling all right, Minerva?" The Headmaster was saying gently.

"Yes, I'm fine. Won't you come in?" His mother replied too softly. The man said nothing as he entered the room. The door closed behind him and they both went over to the couch. Dumbledore courteously helped his mother seat herself and then sat down next to her. His twinkling blue eyes strayed from the woman in front of him and he looked around briefly. Charles surmised that he was looking for him.

"I hope that it's no bother, Minerva. But I came across your nephew in the hallway yesterday. We had a splendid time together and he behaved himself very well. However he told me that you didn't know about his exploring of the castle and I wanted to make sure he was safe and sound back here." His smile dimmed as the other occupant of the couch sighed.

"Are you sure that you are alright. Maybe I should take you to see Poppy, you look pale." Charles' finger's curled around the edge of the door, as his mother said nothing.

"Thank you for your concern, Albus. He left last night to go back with his parents." Dumbledore nodded sadly and leaned back against the couch.

"I was afraid that he would only be staying for a short amount of time." Dumbledore leaned forward and wrapped an arm around his mother's shoulders causing Charles to almost jump up. "My dear, he spoke with the trio but they thought he was your nephew." He whispered. His mother nodded and laid her head against the headmaster's chest.

"What if they…" Dumbledore put a finger to her lips and continued for her.

"They won't tell anyone about your nephew visiting you. I'm sure. Now I am afraid that he knows that I know who he is. It would be best to tell him before he comes to the wrong conclusions." She nodded but said nothing.

"You can come out of your room, Charles. Your mother and I have to speak to you about something."

And so Charles rose up from the floor and made his way out into the sitting room. Each step brought him closer to unraveling the mysteries that had always made up the delicate web of his life.

* * *

**TBC- Please review**


	11. Unexpected Revelations

_-Chapter 11-_

_Unexpected Revelations_

The Headmaster motioned for Charles to sit between them on the couch. Curious as to what they were about to say to him; yet careful due to possible anger, Charles wiggled in between the two adults. He felt his mother's hand go to his shoulder and felt a bit more at ease because of it.

"Charles, you have grown up here at Hogwarts under certain rules." Dumbledore said seriously, his eyes held their twinkle but the words were impossible to take as a joke. Charles nodded in agreement and hung his head. In doing so he missed the exchange of looks between the people on either side of him.

"One of those rules was for you to not ever leave these rooms. But there is nothing we can do about you disobeying that rule. And now we will have to explain things to you. First off, Charles, I am your godfather." Charles looked up at the smiling older man and frowned.

"Really?" The Headmaster nodded. The boy smiled.

"Wow, I didn't know I had a godfather. Do I have a godmother too?" Dumbledore laughed and shook his head at the boy's curiosity.

"No, Charles. I am afraid that all you have in a boring old coot of a godfather." Charles almost felt the sadness in the statement and on impulse he hugged the man. It was strange at first to have his face buried in a soft white beard, but Charles decided instantly that he liked it. He had never hugged anyone other than his mother before. Suddenly he felt two large arms wrap around him and return the hug. Dumbledore squeezed him gently and let him go.

"Thank you, my boy. I needed a nice hug." Charles looked over at his mother who was smiling a small but nevertheless happy smile.

"What else are you going to tell me?" He asked, raising his eyebrows as his mother did when she asked a question. Dumbledore chuckled at the inherited trait before responding.

"Your mother and I brought you here when you were a baby. I suppose that's when you were introduced to the lemon drop. It was during the summer and whenever I watched you for your mother I gave you one or two."

Charles' mother laughed softly as the statement.

"One or two, good grief. He nearly ate the whole bag."

"It never ruined his appetite though did it?" Dumbledore said defending his past actions. Charles smiled at the two's playful banter on a time he had been present but failed to remember.

"So when your mother came back to Hogwarts you came with her and for a while I babysat you. Then a terrible thing happened and the ministry banned all people from Hogwarts who didn't teach or take classes. Since you were a baby, you either had to go into hiding or live with your aunt and uncle. Your mother couldn't part with you and the castle was more than helpful in supplying a room for you. The door is even charmed to disappear when closed." Charles mouth fell open at this new information and he sat in silence for a while.

"People didn't want me to be here so you had to hide me? My door becomes invisible when closed?" Both adults nodded silently. "But why can't people see me outside of here? Why do we always go places that no one is?" Though he tried to control it, anger laced his curiosity and his mother flinched at his almost accusing tone of voice.

"Charles, only a few people even know that you are alive. If people knew that your mother had a son who did not stay with her brother and sister-in-law, they would know that she must keep you here at Hogwarts." Charles had to admit it sounded logical.

Ashamed by his rash behavior, he hugged his mother.

"Sorry, Mama." He whispered. "I almost ruined the whole thing, didn't I?"

"No, love. You were very good by doing what I told you to do. However you should never have left the room. Telling people that you were my nephew was an emergency plan not an every day convenience." His mother said softly, stroking his hair.

"Now go to your room, my little bairn. And close the door. Uncle Albus and I need to talk about something." Charles nodded and after his mother kissed him on the forehead, hurried into his bedroom. He wanted to hear what his mother and newly discovered godfather were talking about, but reality seemed to be working against him when it came to eavesdropping.

Looking about his room, his eyes fell on his toy chest in the corner and he sighed. Every game in its wooden confines had been played with a hundred times; not to mention that each game and toy had been altered as many times as it had been played with. Charles often took his toys to his mother asking if she wouldn't mind turning a stuffed bear into a playhouse or plastic tree or a box of cards into a more rousing game such as Monopoly™. He did not understand that she only transfigured it into something else for the time being and when he bored of the 'new' toy, she changed it back for him.

Of course he had to play all by himself most of the time, and he had become quite accustomed to winning each and every game he played, that was except chess. Try as he might he had yet to beat his mother at chess. Once he had asked his mother to play his favorite game with him, a muggle game called Sorry™ Charles had so badly defeated her that he had never asked her to play it again. Most things magical his mother understood and knew everything about, but anything muggle was beyond her understanding no matter how hard she tried to understand it.

Since he was too young to use magic and could not go outside, Charles had found several means of entertaining himself from a young age. One way had been yelling into the fireplace, which if done the right way reverberated the scream several times. That had soon lost its appeal after his mother had caught him. Another form of entertainment had been laying upside down from the couch and making his face bright red, but after doing to often one day he had gotten a nosebleed and that had ruined that. Finally on his sixth birthday he had received a present that had changed his life, a television.

Even at his young age, Charles had had no problem figuring out how it worked. Within hours he had become hooked on cartoons and Disney™ channel. However he soon lost the desire to watch the colourful characters as they began to all look and sound the same. His mother had regretted getting the television by the fourth month of its stay. But it had remained and was used every once and a while. It was on his seventh birthday that the very best present had been given to him. A wand.

His mother had been very excited when he had opened the oddly shaped box; and rightly so as it had been her wand when she was younger. Charles had at first only stared at the brightly polished smooth wand. He had only seen one other before and his mother had always told him to stay away from it.

Charles knelt down by his toy chest and opened the light lid. His mother had found it much too heavy for her son to lift so a charm had been laid on it to make it lighter. Beneath the lid were the toys that Charles adored and detested all at the same time. In a way they were special because they were all the friends he had; yet in another way he hated them because they were all the friends he had. It was ironic in a way. Still in its box sat the wand that he usually ignored.

Now he pulled it out and sighed. Maybe he could entertain himself by pretending he could do magic. He had heard his mother say many spells over the past months and years. Many of them were embedded into his memory. Thrusting the wand out in his right hand, Charles pointed it at his stuffed dragon that sat on his bed.

"Accio toy!" He cried, mimicking what his mother did to retrieve things she wanted. Charles expected nothing as he had never done magic before and his mother had told him that it would be awhile before he could do it. But to his great alarm and excitement the dragon flew over to him and nestled into his arms. He had just done magic.

* * *

**TBC**


	12. A Day with Dumbledore

_-Chapter 12-_

_A Day with Dumbledore_

Charles had spent the last hour from discovering his magic practicing by throwing simple spells around the rooms. He was greatly enjoying himself and deeply intent on trying to levitate his bed when he heard a knock on his door. His heart leaped at the chance to tell his mother about his discovery and he ran over to open his door. However when he opened the door, Dumbledore stood in the doorway instead of his mother.

"Your mother has classes today, so I was wondering if you would like to spend the day with me?" Charles couldn't help but feel sore about the whole predicament; it would have been better if the Headmaster had done her classes and his mother could have spent the day with him.

"Mama doesn't feel well." He stated, staring at the man's chest.

"No, but she said she was feeling well enough to teach today. Would you like me to stay with you today? If you don't I shall leave." Charles smiled and looked up into the man's mockingly hurt eyes. It was impossible to be angry with his godfather.

"I want you to stay." Dumbledore beamed as though he had been granted immortality.

"Thank you for the honor, Charles. I swear to behave myself so I shall be worthy of your presence." Charles laughed as the man bowed low in a sweeping manner and took of his purple hat.

"You're so funny!" He remarked as his godfather straightened and seated himself on the couch.

"I'm hurt. I meant that from the bottom of my heart." Uncle Albus pouted, folding his arms over his chest. "But again I am much too hungry to worry about petty hurts. Yinny!"

Charles happily made his way over to the couch and sat down to await breakfast.

Never in his life had Charles ever eaten anything like what he ate that morning for breakfast. Five golden waffles under fountains of syrup and butter and topped with whipped cream had been the highlight of the meal. Several confections topped with either chocolate or vanilla cream and blueberry, chocolate and lemon flavored doughnuts had followed the waffles. Finally to finish the feast had been a beautiful lemon meringue pie split right down the middle and two bowls full of ripe strawberries mixed with raspberries. All the former had been accompanied by cup after cup of hot chocolate.

Needless to say, both consumers of the feast could do nothing but burp and lie still for a good thirty minutes after eating. Charles felt so full and content that he forgot all about feeling angry with his godfather.

"So, that was a Dumbledore breakfast, Charles. What do you think?" Charles sighed and smiled.

"Its amazing. I wish I could have that every morning." His godfather laughed softly at the statement.

"So do I, my boy!" Then both of them began to laugh about the silliness of their eating habits and tastes.

"Now that the wrinkles have been thoroughly removed from our lean bellies, what shall we do?" Charles sat up, slowly and looked over at the man.

"Uncle Albus, could you read to me?"

The man nodded and leaned back.

"Yes, that would be the best thing to do at the moment. I am so full I can't move." Charles laughed at him for a second that was until he found he couldn't really move either.

"Where is the book?" His godfather said, noting that Charles had not risen to fetch it.

"Over on top of the book cupboard. The red and silver one." The said book rose up from the cupboard and made its way over to the bespectacled man on the couch, though he lifted no wand nor said any spell.

"How'd you do that?" Charles asked, amazed. Dumbledore smiled.

"Wandless magic, my boy. Now what shall I read to you."

"Anything that is from the 100th page to the 190th page." Charles answered causally. The man raised an eyebrow at the odd statement but nonetheless turned to the designated pages.

"How about this one, _An English Breeze?"_ Charles nodded.

"I like that one."

"_An English Breeze_

_Robert Louis Stevenson_

_Up with the sun, the breeze arose,_

_Across the talking corn she goes,_

_And smooth she rustles far and wide_

_Through all the voiceful countryside._

_Through all the land her tale she tells;_

She spins, she tosses, she compels

_The kites, the clouds, the windmill sails_

_And all the trees in all the dales._

_God calls us, and the day prepares_

_With nimble, gay and gracious airs:_

_And from Penzance to Maidenhead_

_The roads last night He watered._

_God calls us from inglorious ease,_

_Forth and to travel with the breeze_

_While, swift and singing, smooth and strong_

_She gallops by the fields along."_

Charles found it strange at first to hear Dumbledore's pleasant but deep voice reading the poem. His mother's light Scottish brogue was all he had heard the poem read in and he found he liked both voices about the same. While his godfather added a bit more emotion and drama into the poem as he read; his mother added a deeper feeling to it. Both seemed to have qualities that Charles enjoyed.

"That was a nice poem. I don't believe I've ever read it before." Dumbledore stated, when he finishing reading.

"You can pick the next one if you want." Charles offered. He hated to be selfish and it seemed selfish to take all the picks.

"Why thank you, Charles. This one here looks good."

"_Ode To The Lemon _

_by Pablo Neruda_

_From blossoms_

_released_

_by the moonlight,_

_from an_

_aroma of exasperated_

_love,_

_steeped in fragrance,_

_yellowness_

_drifted from the lemon tree,_

_and from its plantarium_

_lemons descended to the earth._

_Tender yield!_

_The coasts,_

_the markets glowed_

_with light, with_

_unrefined gold;_

_we opened_

_two halves_

_of a miracle,_

_congealed acid_

_trickled_

_from the hemispheres_

_of a star,_

_the most intense liqueur_

_of nature,_

_unique, vivid,_

_concentrated,_

_born of the cool, fresh_

_lemon,_

_of its fragrant house,_

_its acid, secret symmetry._

_Knives_

_sliced a small_

_cathedral_

_in the lemon,_

_the concealed apse, opened,_

_revealed acid stained glass,_

_drops_

_oozed topaz,_

_altars,_

_cool architecture._

_So, when you hold_

_the hemisphere_

_of a cut lemon_

_above your plate,_

_you spill_

_a universe of gold,_

_a_

_yellow goblet_

_of miracles,_

_a fragrant nipple_

_of the earth's breast,_

_a ray of light that was made fruit,_

_the minute fire of a planet."_

"Reminds you of the lemon drop, doesn't it, Charles." The boy nodded, his full stomach churning away at the food it was still digesting. Dumbledore sighed and leaned back fully against the couch.

"What now, my boy?" He asked. Charles struggled to sit up.

"We could play a game. I have a bunch of dragons we could use." Dumbledore chuckled.

"Very well, my boy. We'll play dragons."

Soon both of them were seated on the floor with a pile of transfigured toys. Charles picked up one of the larger stuffed dragons and sighed.

"What will we play?" Dumbledore said nothing but rose to his feet.

Suddenly he shouted with his finger pointed at the wall.

"Look, Lord Charles, a dragon approached your castle." Charles leapt to his feet, toys forgotten to look at the wall. Sure enough a great-animated dragon danced across the pale surface.

"We must sound the trumpet!" Charles cried, already enjoying the game. Dumbledore waved his arms above his head and pick up an empty cup from the table.

"Dragon!" He shouted into its top. "Close the gate and man the catapults! We must save the lemon drops from the beast." Charles laughed but nonetheless dove behind the couch, which seemed the safest place at the moment to hide from a lemon drop-thieving dragon. Dumbledore soon joined him and together they peered over the top of the furniture piece.

"The men at the gate are fighting it. What shall we do?" Uncle Albus asked. He 'accioed' the bag on lemon drops on the table over to him and handed it to Charles. "Make safe the treasure whilst I change our décor." With a wave of his wand he transfigured the couch into a block of stone, to make it seem like they were really hiding behind a stone and their clothes changed into chain mail and lightweight armor. Charles giggled as Dumbledore's helmet accidentally closed with a bang and the man was left in the dark.

"Aye! The dragon has got me. I see darkness!" The headmaster stumbled as though he was dieing and fell down into an armchair that had been changed into a bush.

"Uncle Albus. Your helmet closed." Charles laughed, climbing up from behind the "wall". The man rose to his feet and lifted the metal face guard.

"Well, well. It seems that my acting was not as good as I thought it was." He joked.

An hour passed and the game had turned from hiding from a fictitious dragon to Charles being a great knight and fighting against the evil Lord Chocolate Frog.

"You shall never defeat me, Lemon Drop Knight!" The evil black-cloaked lord cackled. His long staff was topped with a cute chocolate frog. The Lemon Drop Knight raised his lemon coloured sword.

"Lemon drops will defeat the chocolate frogs any day. Prepare to melt, Frog!" The "evil lord" gasped as the curtain was pulled back and began to scream as he fell down.

"Well, Charles. It seems as though you killed me once again." Dumbledore admitted rising back on his feet and changing his black cloak back into a dragon-speckled blanket.

"Why don't we clean up a bit and have some hot chocolate. Its 11 and I usually have a snack at this time."

"Okay!" Charles said cheerfully closing the curtain and picking up his sword. Dumbledore waved his wand at their clothes and the room. Charles watched as his sword and the chocolate frog staff dwindled into a lamp stand and a fire poke.

"That was a lot of fun." Said Charles, enjoying the warm soothing aftertaste of the hot chocolate he and his godfather were consuming.

"Yes, more fun than I've had in a long while. How about another poem and then a nap."

Charles wrinkled his nose.

"A nap? How about lunch?" The man shrugged his shoulders.

"You win. I feel much too good to argue with your logic. Go get the book and I'll read a poem before lunch."

"Now lets see." Wiping his half moon spectacles on his robe edge, Dumbledore looked over the book pages. "_The Grass _looks very nice. Wrong setting; but that can't be helped." Charles climbed onto the couch and sat by the man. By habit he leaned against the reader and listened intently.

"_The Grass so little has to do _

_By Emily Dickinson_

The Grass so little has to do -- A Sphere of simple Green --

_With only Butterflies to brood_

_And Bees to entertain --_

_And stir all day to pretty Tunes_

_The Breezes fetch along --_

_And hold the Sunshine in its lap_

_And bow to everything --_

_And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearls --_

_And make itself so fine_

_A Duchess were too common_

_For such a noticing --_

_And even when it dies -- to pass_

_In Odors so divine --_

_Like Lowly spices, lain to sleep --_

_Or Spikenards, perishing --_

_And then, in Sovereign Barns to dwell --_

_And dream the Days away,_

_The Grass so little has to do_

_I wish I were a Hay –"_

The last words were lost in a swirl of vibrant colours as Charles' eyes closed in sleep. His young body was exhausted from the intense play he had undergone all morning and it took the reading and stillness as an opportunity to rest. Dumbledore smiled down at the sleeping boy and sighed. Without moving he banished the book to the cupboard and brought a blanket over from the armchair. Then he covered the boy and closed his eyes. He had wanted a nap that morning and it seemed that his little playmate did as well.

Both dreamed very different dreams as their thoughts were quite varied. Charles dreamed about feasts and battles and dragons; all of which he either ate or conquered. While he was in his fantasy world and enjoying every second of it; his godfather drifted deep into a world that was neither dark nor light. A place where people usually do not even remember going when they sleep; memory lane.

* * *

_TBC- Thank you all of your who have reviewed…and all of you who have read my story but have failed to review either because of lack of time or pure laziness…_


	13. Dreams Part 1

_Chapter 13_

_Dreams Part 1_

_8 years prior to the rest of the story_

Albus Dumbledore sighed as he sat down behind his desk. He laid the newspaper he had been reading down on the cluttered area and leaned back. Unconsciously his hand stroked his long white beard as it was a habit he had formed over the years. A tap on the door interrupted his thoughts and he looked up.

"Come in." His voice was not as cheerful as it usually was, but that couldn't be helped.

The door opened and a raven-haired witch stormed into his office. Her long black hair hung in wide waves down her back and chest and her breathing was hurried. Albus leaped to his feet at the sight of his deputy looking so disheveled yet beautiful and hurriedly offered her a seat.

"Albus. Did you see the paper?" Her usual Scottish accent was deeper than usual and her eyes flamed with a fury that made the Headmaster cringe slightly.

"Yes. I did." Minerva nodded at his statement and sat down in the offered chair.

"Oh, Albus…I though it was over. Now this." Her last sentence came out as a gasp and she rubbed her temples trying to alleviate the headache that was forming.

"Yes. I had hoped it would end when Voldemort was killed. But apparently, there are still death eaters out there."

Minerva nodded silently and pointed at the paper on his desk.

"It was beyond cruelty to attach that hospital. Brews is only a children's hospital; not a government building! They were only children." Albus said nothing. Brews was a children's hospital; that had been the reason for the attack.

"Minerva, I know this is difficult to grasp. But…that's why they attacked the hospital. They knew no one would be able to fight back."

"The bloody cowards." She hissed, fingering her wand. "The paper said that there were only three survivors, a nurse and two of the younger children. Albus, what if it happens again?" Her green eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Albus sighed.

"My dear, the ministry is doing everything in its power to hunt down the remaining death eaters and additional precautions have been taken to protect other hospitals and likely targets. We will be ready for them if they attack again." He smiled slightly, to give her some hope and leaned forward to look her in the eye.

"I hope you're right, Albus." Minerva offered. Albus nodded.

"So do I, my dear." The two sat silently for a moment before Minerva rose to her feet.

"It's the middle of summer, Albus. The children are all with their parents and guardians and all of the teachers but us are gone till break is over." Albus raised an eyebrow at her statement of the obvious but decided not to comment.

"I have already finished my lesson plans for the new year and you have nothing to do at the moment but sulk and read. Why don't we do something?" She smiled softly as he cocked his head to one side.

"What would we do? Chess. I am always fond of you beating me. We could go and walk in the summer heat. Or, I know, a trip to Diagon Alley for sweets." Dumbledore had to bit his lip to keep from laughing at the expression that crossed his deputy's face.

"You old coot! I am not going to let you drag me to Diagon Alley and watch you buy more of your blasted sweets! It is not that hot outside and I always win fair and square." Her folded her arms over her chest and turned to leave the office.

"My dear, I was only teasing." Albus laughed, rising to his feet and going after her. Minerva said nothing as she exited the room and went down the stairway.

"Minerva!" He called, running after her.

"You made it quite clear that you didn't want to do anything with me, so I might as well leave." Came her sharp retort, causing Albus to freeze halfway down the hallway.

"I meant nothing offensive, Minerva. I am sorry. I would love to walk with you." From his position in the hallway all he could see of her was her back but it did not look at stiff as it had before.

Minerva turned around and walked slowly back to him. Then with a flicker of a smile she reached out and snatched his hat from his head. At first Albus was so shocked at her doing something so out of character, that all he could do was stand there. But then Minerva tore off down the hallway and he knew that he was expected to chase after her.

"You are getting slow in your old age, Albus." She called over her shoulder as they exited the castle. Portraits had almost fallen off their walls at the sight of the usually strict professor laughing with her hair down and running through the castle. But most of them had just shaken their heads when the Headmaster had followed her. They were used to him behaving in a childish manner.

Albus could hardly remember a time when he had run for the pleasure of it. Of course he couldn't really think of a time he had even imagined himself chasing his deputy. She was very fast; especially for someone who he had never even seen run in her human form, of course she had run in her animgus form.

"Tabby, slow down!" He called suddenly as they were nearly the lake and he was certain that he had strained something. She ignored him and seemed to run faster. Finally Albus halted, gasping for air and for the pain that was shooting up his left leg.

The sun reflected off of the lake perfectly and although it could have been hot, outside was simply too beautiful to be miserable. Albus sat down hardly more than a few feet from the lake edge and sighed. He couldn't see Minerva anywhere, but something told him that she would return as soon as she realized he was no longer chasing her.

"Is something wrong?" Minerva asked, gently taking a seat in the grass by his side. Without a word, she placed his hat back on his head and smiled. His hand reached out and took her hand in his.

"Its so beautiful, Minerva. But when I think about it or see it, all I can compare it to is you. And you always win the contest." Minerva blushed red.

"Flatterer." She teased. But she knew he was being serious.

"Minerva, I mean it. You are lovely." He raised a hand to touch her cheek and she closed her eyes.

"I know you meant it." And she suddenly rose up from the grass and ran back toward the castle.

Albus awoke slowly as he felt two things happen at once. First of which was that someone tapped his nose and the other being that his leg fell asleep. He opened his eyes to see Charles looking straight at him, looking happy and alert.

"You are a deep sleeper. I couldn't wake you up." Albus chuckled and yawned. The boy offered him a plate and he took it without question.

"Ah, lunch!" He said gratefully digging into the chicken and rice. Charles shook his head.

"No, Uncle Albus. It's supper. We slept way too long. Mama will be back soon."

Albus nodded and soon finished the meal. He noticed quickly that Charles' empty plate had already been set on the coffee table and that the television was blaring something about someone named Dr. Phil.

The TV clicked off from Charles pushing a red button on a little box and Albus raised an eyebrow. As much as he loved muggle things, Charles seemed to have a bigger grasp on them than he did. He smiled and set his plate down. Between the lemon drops and muggle entertainment, he figured that Charles was just about as close to him as any child had ever got.

* * *

**TBC**


	14. Dreams Part 2

_-Chapter 14-_

_Dreams Part 2 _

_Author's warning- there is brief violence in this chapter_

Charles spent the rest of his day with his godfather playing chess. Amazingly he won and he couldn't help but wonder if the man had let him. Still it had been exciting to win the game that seemed impossible to win. It was getting dark when Dumbledore announced that he had to go and Charles was glad that he had been able to spend the day with the man.

"Now, it would probably be best not to tell your mother about the breakfast or the abundance of candy I and you ate. She might punish us by forcing us to eat more healthily." Charles nodded vigorously and Dumbledore smiled. "I greatly enjoyed spending the day with you young man. Perhaps we can do it again some day?"

"I would like that very much." Charles said hugging the man. His hug was returned briefly and after patting his head, Dumbledore exited the room and made his way down the hall.

Charles sighed as he closed the door and leaned against the wall. There was something about his godfather that he just couldn't put his finger on. His twinkling happy eyes always seemed to dim slightly when he thought the boy wasn't looking; as though great sadness lurked beneath the blue of his eyes.

"Did you enjoy your time with your godfather?" His mother asked, suddenly entering the room and closing it behind her. Her cheeks were flushed from the long walk and her breathing was hurried; still she was smiling.

"Yes, I had a great time. He is a lot of fun. We had waffles for breakfast and played. I even took a nap." He finished looking very proud of himself and his mother laughed and ruffled his hair.

"You tired him out, didn't you?" He shrugged not really sure if he had fallen asleep first or if his godfather had.

"Well, I am glad that you enjoyed yourself." His mother motioned for him to sit on the couch and she sighed as she sat by him. "Because I need to tell you something that is very important." Charles nodded and listened intently as she continued.

"There is something very dangerous going on right now. An evil man is attacking people in Hogwarts and outside. He hates muggles and anyone who has anything to do with them. There are children here in the school that are muggleborn or have muggle blood in them." Charles swallowed hard and scooted closer to his mother. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close as she continued.

"You are a pureblood, but since I am on the side of those fighting against the evil man, you are not safe. No one is really, you are only safe for me to keep you here and never let you out until you are older. By then maybe there will be no evil lord and you will go to school here at Hogwarts and have friends and a normal life."

She finished suddenly and froze and though she had forgotten what she could tell him and what she couldn't tell him. Tears dripped down her face and she pulled her son close to her.

"I am so very sorry. I should have given you up. You deserve more than what I have given you." Sobs turned the words she muttered after into nonsense and Charles began to cry at seeing his mother so disturbed.

"Mama, I don't want to live normal. I want to be with you." The heart felt plea from son to mother caused her sobs to soften and soon she was quiet.

"You are so much like your father." She whispered kissing his forehead. "I must attend a meeting tomorrow, so Uncle Albus shall look in on you from time to time. Go to bed and do not worry about anything. I exaggerated." She got up from the couch and pulled him up after her. "I love you." Charles nodded.

"I love you too."

The boy said nothing as his mother made her way into her bedroom. She did not smile when she turned to close the door. Charles walked nearer to the bedroom door and listened to his mother's soft crying. His young mind understood why his mother was sad and afraid, but it still grieved him greatly to see her that way.

Minerva closed the door behind her. She had told her son one of her most closely guarded secrets. Not only had she told him of the war but she had gone beyond it and told him too much for his own good. A lone tear trickled down her cheek and she did not wipe it away; more would follow.

Silently she made her way to her vanity and sat down. The reflection did nothing to encourage her bleeding heart and sadness consumed her as rain envelopes the earth. With shaking fingers, Minerva pulled her hairpins from her hair and began to undress. Soon her black outer robe lay out on the floor and she sat in her light green robes. They followed the former and she plucked her glasses off and laid them on the vanity.

She looked so different without her heavy robes and glasses. Her hair tumbled down past her waist, framing her pale body. The white under robe that she wore beneath the robes she had discarded made her look tiny and frail. Her eyes without their glass shields were far more vulnerable and less intimidating. The Minerva that only one person ever saw.

Her son saw her differently than her students did; but she tried to make sure he never saw just how weak she truly was and felt. To her students she was made of stone and they looked to her as someone who could stand up to anyone or anything. Through the years she had made a reputation for her "Scottish temper" something that scared her almost more than it scared others. Three people sat in front of that vanity and only one of them was the truth; the others were all facades.

Minerva rose up from the vanity and walked over to her bed. The cover was still pulled back from that morning and she slipped under it, ignoring the fact that she had yet to put her nightgown on. She closed her eyes and slipped off into her own dreamless reality that was made up of her memories.

_6 years prior to the story_

A soft cry awoke Minerva McGonagall from her light slumber. She had always been a light sleeper and since becoming a mother she had become even more attentive. Rising up from her bed and slipping her bathrobe over her nightgown, she approached the crib. The one year old smiled up at his mother with large blue eyes, gurgling through his two front teeth.

Scooping up the large baby, the woman smiled. She would happily never sleep again for the chance to see her son smile. Gently carrying him over to her rocking chair, she sat down. She held him tightly as she rocked.

"_Sleep while the moon is tucked away,_

_Under his pillow of cloud-_

_Do not worry about anything,_

_As stars twinkle their song,_

_Bright little moonbeams dance_

_And play as you dream of them_

_Close your eyes and sleep,_

_And Papa will keep you safe."_

The large bedroom hid the woman's soft singing from the world around it. The young child sighed as his mother's voice and gentle rocking caused him to fall asleep. A smile lit the mother's face as she felt the baby go limp in her arms. Humming, she rose carefully to her feet and carried him back to his little bed. Her gaze lingered on her son as he softly snored. Love, unwavering, shone in her dark green eyes and she kissed the baby's forehead

Morning shone through the thin curtains that surrounded the canopy bed and awoke the sleepy woman. Minerva yawned and blinked. Sunrise had only begun telling her it was around 6.

"Mama!" squealed a happy baby. Minerva looked over at her son's crib to see him standing against the side, smiling at her. She returned his heartfelt smile and climbed out of the large bed to rescue him from his prison.

"You were such a good lad!" She exclaimed, picking him up and out of the high-sided crib. Albus had had to add on to its height as the baby had easily climbed out of its former size. "You wouldn't be hungry, would you?" She playfully tapped the baby's nose and he gurgled happily.

Minerva quickly called for a house elf and sat down in the rocking chair. A pop proclaimed the elf's arrival and the baby clapped for joy at the sight of the little creature.

"Whatn be Mistress Minerva be wanting?" Yinny asked excited that his arrival had entertained the young child.

"Breakfast for Charles if you please, Yinny." Minerva requested, bouncing her son causally on her knees. The house elf disappeared to go fetch her request and Charles clapped.

"Mama!" he gurgled, ecstatic about all the attention he was receiving that morning. Minerva stopped bouncing him on her knee and carried him over to his high chair. With a wave of her wand, she quickly had her son all fastened into the chair and he cooed in delight.

After feeding him his breakfast of milk and boiled carrots, which he enjoyed immensely, Minerva carried the alert child into his nursery. Upon her arrival to Hogwarts with the baby, the castle had graciously added a room to the Deputy headmistress' bedchamber. She had easily turned the large room into a nursery, where her son spent his days. However insecurity forced her to have him sleep in her room as she could not sleep with his being in a different room.

Minerva placed her content infant on the thick-carpeted floor and handed him several charmed toys. Charles laughed, beating the charmed duck and squid together. He found entertainment in anything that moved and the more the better. Kissing the top of his head, his mother cast a contentment charm on the baby and silently closed the door.

A soft pop indicated that a house elf had already arrived to watch Charles and Minerva smiled as the happy elf disappeared into the nursery. Soon she was dressed and ready for the day, although she had no classes as it was summer. Humming softly to herself, she strolled out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. Usually she would take Charles with her on a morning walk, but several of the teachers had already returned from their vacations and her son was meant to be a closely guarded secret. Only three people even knew that he was alive; herself, Albus Dumbledore and the mediwitch that had helped with his birth. Still the nurse had died three months prior so the secret had been made officially between two people.

Minerva soon reached the Headmaster's office and was about to whisper the password when she heard a noise further down the hallway. Pulling her wand out of her pocket, she approached the sound. Suddenly a hand clamped down on her mouth, silencing her before she could scream. The attacker shoved her up against the wall and wrenched her wand from her hand. The masked man then whispered a silence spell and opened the door behind her.

Tripping as she was thrust back into the dark room, Minerva grabbed a chair to help regain her balance. The man hit her hard with the back of his hand and she fell to the floor. He said a silencing ward over the room and pointed his wand at her.

"Crucio." He muttered.

Minerva sat up in her bed, panting and shaking from reliving her memory. Her hands went to her chest were the scars beneath the thin fabric were throbbing. She took a deep breath to stabilize her breathing and began to cry. Suddenly someone seated himself on her bedside and pulled her into his embrace. Minerva clung to him as he whispered comforting statements to her.

"You dreamed about the past didn't you, my dear?" She nodded silently and he pulled her onto his lap, holding her tightly. "He's dead, Minerva. Remember, I killed him. He can't hurt you again." She nodded again and buried her face deeper into his robe front.

"I told Charles about the war and Him." Albus nodded and began to stroke her hair.

"He is a very bright boy, Minerva. He will understand."

"I mentioned he was like his father."

"Was that a good thing or a bad thing?" He asked, gently.

"A good thing."

"Then I'm glad you told him." He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"I didn't tell him who his father was."

"Maybe we should." She nodded and sighed.

"He took a nap. What did you do to make that happen?" Albus chuckled softly and pulled her upright.

"I read to him. It did wonders to my ego to have him fall asleep as I read." He frowned as she smiled and ran his thumb over her cheek. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Yes." He nodded at her statement and kissed her lips.

"Good night, my dear." And without another word he left.

**Author's note- reviews would be appreciated…a lot of time went into this chapter and I gave away a lot of my carefully guarded secrets that add to the mystery of the whole story…**


	15. Charles' Father

-Chapter 15-

_-Chapter 15-_

_Charles' Father_

Charles lay that night in his bed, silently thinking over everything that had happened that day and the day before. In his short life he had never had so much happen to him than had happened just in two days. With a sigh, he rose up from his bed and wished the sweet lullaby that his covers were playing would be quiet; the cheerful sleepy tune was enough to drive him insane. He didn't want to fall asleep; he wanted answers.

"_You are so much like your father."_ His mother had said. Charles sat on the edge of his bed and folded his arms. He had often wondered about his father or lack thereof. But usually he had tucked it away as one of those things his mother didn't talk about. Now he knew why she never talked about certain things; she was trying to protect him. It was acutely unfair in his opinion.

"Why couldn't this bad man have come later?" He whispered to himself. "Why didn't Mama leave this place and go someplace else with me. Why doesn't anyone tell me who my dad is?" questions that would go on forever without answers echoed through the bedroom.

"We all wish he had." Came a soft answer from the doorway. Charles turned to find his mother standing there. She had pulled her night robe tightly around her and looked as though she had been crying extensively. "I thought about taking you away, Charles. But everything changed so very quickly and I was needed here." She paused as she sat on his bed. "I still am."

"Yeah. I know." Charles admitted, laying his head in his mother's lap and sighing. She stroked his hair absently for a moment.

"I never told you who your father was. I should have, love. But I thought you would be safer without that knowledge. I made enough mistakes without making another." Charles looked up into her eyes. His mother loved him so much that it was hard for him to ask what he was about too.

"Can't you tell me now? Mama, please." He sat up and stared straight at her, hoping with every fiber in his body that she would give in. She sighed and looked away from him.

"Albus Dumbledore and I got married when I started teaching at Hogwarts. We couldn't have children because our marriage was a secret. There was an evil man then as well. Albus defeated him and we thought that we could have a normal life together but another dark lord had already risen to take the last one's place. When you were born, your father and I were so happy and proud that we couldn't give you up. So we decided that I would raise you at Hogwarts by myself until you were older and then you would go to live with your uncle as his wife's nephew. You would be able to go to Hogwarts then without worrying about being hurt because of us and would be able to have a normal life afterwards."

Charles sat speechless for a long while before finally opening his mouth.

"Uncle Albus isn't my godfather. He is my father." The statement caused his mother to nod in agreement.

"Are you upset, Charles?" His mother asked attentively watching his face. He shook his head.

"No." His mother nodded and stood up.

"You had better get some sleep." Without another word she kissed him on the forehead and exited the bedroom; closing the door behind her.

As the darkness filled the room once more, Charles lay with his mouth open, thinking. His mother had told him who his father was. His father was Albus Dumbledore; the Headmaster of Hogwarts. The glowing stars above his bed reminded him of the trademark twinkle that his recently discovered father had. It caused him to smile as he remembered how much fun that day had been. He had thought about having the man as a father or at least a father like person; now he was his father.

Restless with too much on his mind, Charles climbed out of his bed and walked over to his window. Beneath, the long lawn lay dark before him; outlined by the reflection of the half moon in the placid lake. Charles sighed wishing he could go for a walk, just to walk and think. He rested his head up against the window and leaned forward to see the side of the wall better. Surprisingly the window creaked open and the cool night air rushed through the crack.

Looking over his shoulder to be sure that his mother had closed the door, Charles began to think of the possibilities. The room was high up from the ground; yet Charles could already see himself making his way down the creviced wall. Fear pumped through his body as he stared down at the ground; exciting him yet holding him back. How would he get back up? What if he fell? What if he got lost? Too many vital questions danced around in his head.

"You'll definitely be a Gryffindor if you are even thinking about climbing down the wall." Charles froze as he heard the voice. It sounded as though it was coming from outside, yet he saw no one out there.

"Who are you?" He asked, pulling back slightly from the window. A laugh filtered through the window crack and a head appeared from under the window. A girl seated on a broomstick rose up to face him and smiled.

"Hi, I'm Beth." She stated, lifting the window all the way up and holding out a hand for him to shake. He did so; though a bit stiffly. "I try to get away every once and a while. Saw you contemplating a daring climb and thought I'd have a talk with you." Her smile grew and Charles couldn't help but find her pleasant.

The girl was tall with curly brown hair that came to rest on her shoulders and large green eyes. Her nose was turned up slightly making her look bit like a Whoo from Dr. Seuss. She was wearing normal grey robes with pants underneath, as she was riding a broom and had a pointed hat perched on her head. Charles couldn't find anything particularly wrong with her so he smiled.

"Do all students of Hogwarts get to hang out of windows and wear cool PJs?" Beth asked, pointing at his nightwear. Little red and gold lions were dancing around to the tune that still played from his bed.

"No, they'd stop moving if that music would stop." Beth looked past the boy and chuckled.

"You have a lullaby blanket, that's very special. Mothers make those you know enchanting every thread in the fabric to protect and entertain their children." Charles stared at the coverlet with this new knowledge in mind. He had not known that. "Though I am surprised that the other students don't mind it playing all night long." Charles blushed red.

"There are no other students in here. I have my own room." Beth nodded.

"You are either on special little boy or you snore." Charles shook his head and smiled. He liked this girl; she was funny.

"I don't snore." Beth shrugged.

"Oh, well. Some of us are just lucky. So you want out huh?" She came closer to the window and patted the broom handle. "Climb aboard and I'll take you down." Charles moved to accept the offer but stopped.

"I can't." he muttered. Beth frowned slightly, and then shook her head.

"What an idiot I am!" she exclaimed, slapping herself in the head. "Here I am, a complete stranger offering you a ride. There should be a law against that. Sorry, boy. Shouldn't have tempted you. You obey your mother and father's advice and don't ever take things from strangers. Now go get into your bed and go to sleep. It's late." Beth winked at him as her closed the window and waved good-bye as she speed off into the distance.

Charles stood dumbstruck for a moment, as he had never had so much told to him in so little amount of time. Then a yawn betrayed how sleepily he really was, and he went over to his bed and slipped into the happily humming covers. Tomorrow would be a new day and he had a fixed plan to find out who Beth was.

Author's Note- This should answer all your questions…please review and yes, the next chapter shall be coming soon…if you see any errors, point them out and I will try to fix them ASAP…thank you for reading


	16. A Normal Family

-Chapter 16-

A Normal Family

Charles awoke the next morning full of energy and his mind wrapped tightly around an idea. It was a Saturday and he had decided that morning that he wanted to get to know his newly discovered father. In his mind there was no better way to get to know someone than to spend time with them. Crawling out of his bed and hoping his mother had not already made plans for that day, Charles exited his room.

His bare feet pattered across the carpeted floor. The sun was already rising up into the sky and he was fairly certain his mother would be awake. She rarely slept in on any day. As he peered into his mother's bedroom, Charles caught sight of his mother standing by the window.

She was dressed in pale blue robes that made her look nice rather than stern. Charles smiled as he noticed her hair was still down in soft waves and her wand had not been placed in her pocket. There was hope.

Making his way silently behind her, Charles hugged her. She laughed softly and turned around to return the hug. Seeing this, Charles giggled and wiggled away from her; running over to the open door he called back to her.

"Catch me, Mama." And without another word he ran out into the sitting room and dove behind the large couch.

His mother appeared suddenly in the doorway and Charles realized he had her playing with him. The fact made him feel warm and content.

"I wonder where my son is. Is he in his room?" she made her way over to his bedroom and opened the partially opened door. "No, how about under the cupboard?" Getting down on her hands and knees, his mother glanced under the cupboard. Her sharp green eyes danced with joy as she glanced back toward the couch.

"I've got you my little bairn." Charles laughed out loud as she pounced on him. It was going to be a fun day.

* * *

Bethany Wellson blinked back tears as she made her way through the darkened sky. She was torn inside by several feelings all battling for her attention and none of them were feelings she was suppose to be feeling. _Pull yourself together, Beth._ She told herself, _You're a death eater for crying out loud. _But the truth of the matter still weighed heavily on her.

She had been watching Minerva McGonagall for several months; it had been her assignment. Never had the idea even crossed her mind that she would find the woman's weakness. From her tough, stern exterior to her totally lack of any social life, Professor McGonagall had seemed to be one of the few who had no weakness that Lord Voldemort could use to his advantage. Sure even Dumbledore had a weakness; but then again, an obsession with candy was not something that could bring the formidable man to his knees.

Beth sighed. It had been a mere coincidence that she had even passed by the window that night. It had been one of those rarely used windows that every castle had and she had ignored it altogether when it opened slightly. However when a young boy had thrust his head out into the night, she had come closer to investigate.

At first she had figured that the boy was a young student, but upon closer inspection had found him to be much to young to be even a first year. She had heard of children beginning Hogwarts at an earlier age than 11 before, but knew it was rare. The boy had been adorable with large blue eyes that had seemed to twinkle from the moonlight's reflection and black hair the shade of ebony. Beth had found it strange when the boy had responded to her handshake, even though he had acted a bit dazed.

Then he had smiled and her heart had melted into a puddle. He was so cute and so very friendly that she hadn't even really given it much thought as to why he had been at Hogwarts; that was not until she had left. Then she had done extensive thinking and had come up with something that her entire being knew was impossible yet felt was the only logical ending. The boy was a child of one of the staff members. And whose could he possible be other than Minerva McGonagall? After all, the boy had her hair and his room was inside of hers.

A tear dripped unbidden down her cheek. She had never been at conflict with herself like this before. Then again, she had never held the scale of life or death for someone before. When her mother and father had been killed by the ministry for helping a friend of theirs, Beth had sworn to avenge them. Lord Voldemort had offered her everything she had ever wanted and had asked for so little. She wasn't really a death eater; as she had no dark mark. She was just a spy. Every month or so she received an owl telling her to watch this person or that person and report if she uncovered anything. She would be graduating soon as she was a 7th year and then she would officially join He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

But now she found that the first time she had ever gained information worth passing on, she didn't want to.

* * *

Charles counted to ten cheerfully peeking out from behind interlaced fingers. His mother was hiding from him but he had already figured out where she was.

"Ten." The boy chirped already rushing toward where he thought his mother was. Cupboard doors swung open as he pulled them and he groaned as he realized that his mother had hid better than he had expected.

"You ain't allowed to using magic!" Charles called out hoping that his mother would take the bait of the improper grammar. Silence answered him and he began to search the old-fashioned way; physically.

Once or twice he could have sworn seeing her robe poking out from behind something or other; but further investigation always proved him wrong. After searching for her for quite a while, Charles gave up and threw himself onto his mother's unmade bed. He landed on something soft and immediately cried.

"Got you!" Pulling back the covers revealed his beaming mother who had transfigured herself into her cat form and he smiled. "I already checked here!" Charles exclaimed as his mother changed back with a pop into her normal form. He then helped his mother climb out from underneath the mass of sheets and blankets.

"Ah, my little one, but you didn't check the whole bed. And I did not use magic until you told me not too. Besides you are much smaller than me, which gives you and unfair advantage." Charles shrugged as his disheveled mother began to straighten herself.

Deciding that he had his mother in the perfect mood, Charles launched his plan into action.

"Mama, could we go on a picnic with Daddy?" He bit his lip as she turned to face him. At first he was certain that she was about to say no; but then she smiled and nodded her head.

"If your father is willing, then we shall go for a picnic together." Overjoyed, Charles embraced his mother tightly before jumping around the room for joy.

"Yippee! We will just be a normal family on a picnic!" it was the best thing he had ever heard himself say.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his large desk and glanced down at the letter he had just finished writing. A ministry owl sat on the corner of his desk preening her grey feathers a reminder that the letter had yet to be sent. Sighing deeply, the man folded the parchment and sealed it with melted max and his seal.

The owl had only just flown away with the letter when the door of his office opened quietly and his wife, Minerva entered looking flushed but happy. Rising to his feet, Albus drew the curtains shut before hurrying over to her side and pulling her into a loving embrace. She laid her head contently against his chest and smiled as he ran a hand over her loose hair.

"What brings my Deputy into my office this fine morning?" he asked jokingly. Minerva looked up from his robe front and lifted her hand to touch his face.

"I wanted to know if you would eat lunch with me, Albus. I'll be having crepes and I thought I would add some pigeon pie if you would come." To anyone that might have listened into their conversation; it was an invitation to eat lunch from a deputy to a headmaster. But to the speakers themselves it was much more. Crepes was the codeword long established to be for the Fortsfield Park that sat on the outskirts of a small town that was barely a town.

When Charles had been born and Albus and Minerva had come to the painful decision of having him grow up with only one of his parents; Albus had insisted on giving their son a name so they could talk about him without rising suspicion. In the end both of the parents had been far too careful to even speak of their son when they were together. The name had been "Pigeon" as Albus had found it fitting. Thus as Minerva told him that they would be having crepes and pigeon pie he inferred that he was to meet her at the deserted park to eat with her and their son.

"I would love to eat lunch with you, Minerva. But work must be done." Both feigned disappointment and stepped away from each other, eyes looked on the window.

"Well, then. Sorry to bother you, Headmaster." And without another word, Minerva exited the room.

Bethany sat on her broomstick beneath the Headmaster's office window listening to him converse with his deputy. So far nothing had slipped as to McGonagall's son, but Beth was certain that Dumbledore knew. Why wouldn't he? He and Professor McGonagall were best friends and seemed to not have a single thing hidden from one another. Beth had at first thought that the two might have been more than friends. But careful scrutiny had revealed that neither had any romantic intentions to the other. Beth was never quite certain of anything though and she still kept a watch out for hints as to the truth behind the friend's relationship.

She gasped as she heard McGonagall's curt response to Dumbledore's refusal and whispered a concealing charm as the curtain was pulled back. Beth had heard nothing helpful during the conversation; except learning that a certain Headmaster was probably going to be ignored by a certain Transfiguration Mistress.

* * *

Charles was having a hard time sitting still as he waited for his mother to return. Finally when she entered the chamber, he jumped up.

"Did he say yes?" he asked. His mother nodded and he began to dance around the room celebrating. His actions caused him to miss the glimmer of tears in his mother's eyes. It could have been tears of joy for seeing her family together again but then again it could have been the pain of keeping so much from her son and keeping up a façade that the world saw her through.

Without a word or reprimand to behave himself, his mother made her way over to the couch and sat down. Without thinking she called Yinny and began to organize a picnic basket. Out of the corner of her eye though, she watched the most precious thing she had rush toward his bedroom to dress. _Perhaps,_ she thought, _we can be a family after all. _

* * *

**My dear Reader,**

**Let me start by apologizing for how long it took me to post this chapter. It is not as long as I had hoped it would be, but then again I do not have a lot of extra time on my hands. Please let me know if there are any mistakes in the plot or grammar.**

**Yours Truly,**

**Merciful Heavens**


	17. Notes from Unknown Sources

-Chapter 17-

Notes from Unknown Sources

The day was a rainy muggy day with large grey clouds in the sky and even darker shadows scattered about the world beneath it. The falling raindrops fell in fleets of tiny wet ships each one with a destination that was charted and set. Of course the boy leaning against the large window with an unread book clutched in his hands did not view the rain as anything but a painful occurrence. It meant nothing to him that the rain provided water for animals, crops and people; it only interfered with another planned picnic. In his young mind the falling rain and the weeping sky seemed to mock him.

"Charles you have been sitting there for an hour. Can't you find something else to do?" His mother called from her position on the sitting room couch. Her thick black hair was pulled back into a long braid and she was going over essays that she had assigned to one of her classes.

"It might stop raining, Mama and I want to be the first to see it stop!" His nose made a smudge on the foggy glass, as he pressed against the windowpane. Shaking her head, his mother smiled. Her son sitting at the window waiting for it to stop raining so he could go play was something she could picture her husband doing and the thought of her son being so much like his father was heartwarming.

"It's too late for a picnic any way, my dear. Tomorrow is a school day and I want you to go to bed at a reasonable time tonight." Charles finally turned to face his mother.

"Why?" he questioned, his eyes widening for the effect of charming his mother into giving him another answer than the one she would doubtless give him.

"Because you stayed up much to late last night and I don't need a grumpy boy on top of exhausted students." Her tone of voice left no room for arguments and Charles turned back to his window.

"Have you been working on your alphabet?" She suddenly asked, setting the graded essays aside and folding her glasses. Charles shrugged a wordless no. "Well, how do you ever hope to learn how to read if you refuse to learn anything?" The boy shrugged again and continued to stare out into the dreary world.

His mother sighed and glanced over at the essays that needed to be returned to her office. She could slip out for a few minutes but the idea of leaving her son in his dazed frame of mind did not appeal to her.

Finally Minerva knew what to do. Rising up from the couch with the essays tucked under her arm, she approached her son. Leaning over him so that her mouth was right by his ear she whispered to him.

"How would you like to come with me to my office?" The reaction that literally burst from her son was enough to make the mother know she had made the right decision.

"Really! Yippee!" The book was dropped, forgotten on the floor and he threw his arms around his mother's waist. "Thank you, Mama!" he exclaimed, squeezing her tightly. Minerva laughed softly at her son's antics but said nothing.

After giving her son a short talk about what he was to say and not say, Minerva exited her rooms with her son in tow. Truthfully her heartbeat was a rhythm that could outdo a flashing siren; she could almost see the trepidation beading on her forehead in the form of sweat. Charles on the other hand seemed to be completely oblivious to anything other than his own thoughts and senses. Every once and a while he pointed at something and asked what it was; but for the most part he was silent.

Minerva had just begun to think that she would reach her office without bumping into anyone when a seventh year walked around the corner and spied them. She instantly placed the girl as an average Ravenclaw named Bethany Wellson, who was quite shy and did poorly in transfiguration. Fixing the girl with her perfect glare, Minerva passed her without more than a second glance. Charles on the other hand gasped and shouted, "Hey your that girl named Beth!", forgetting both his manners and the fact that he should have said anything.

The now flustered girl froze and turned around to face the happy boy. She managed a small smile; but Minerva could tell that it was forced. Years of forcing her own smile to fade or appear had taught her to spy facades. Charles hadn't missed a beat though as he continued.

"You're a student here? Wow! I thought you something else." His eyebrows rose expectantly, as he waited for the girl's reply.

"Um…hi." The girl stammered. Inside she was torn between acting normally with him or acting the shy girl. With Professor McGonagall boring holes into her skull; she quickly surmised that shy girl would be more appropriate. Then another things rammed into her mind full force. _What was Professor McGonagall thinking? If someone saw the boy then one of the other spies would report it to Lord Voldemort. Unless of course…_she trailed off, _he wasn't really her son._ With a bit of research Beth had found that the woman had a nephew. _Could this be him?_

"Ms. Wellson this is my nephew, Mattie McGonagall." Charles offered her his hand and her numbly shook it. Her fears had all dissolved with that simple statement.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mattie. Have a nice day, Professor." And without another word the girl slinked off down the hallway. Charles stared after her but said nothing. He found it strange that she hadn't recognized him, but then again, he reasoned, it had been dark.

"You've met Ms. Wellson before." His mother asked, grabbing his hand to lead him along the hallway. He hung his head hoping she would drop the subject and was relieved to see someone walking toward them. His savior, ironically, was one of the scariest men Charles had ever seen and it clicked in his memory that it was the man he had seen with his father the day he had "escaped" from the room. _Snape,_ he remembered, _that's what his name is and Ron said he taught potions._ His mother can to a halt as her colleague stopped to stare at Charles. _I wonder if he ever heard of a shower?_ Charles wondered looking up at the tall greasy haired man.

"And what do we have here?" Professor Snape asked, pointing a pale finger accusingly at Charles as thought he was a wet dog the transfiguration professor had had pity for. Charles glanced up at his mother to catch her reaction. It was surprisingly not what he had expected. Immediately his mother seemed to bristle with a wraith he had no idea his mother was even capable of possessing.

"He happens to be my nephew and I would appreciate if you used less demeaning tactics of referring to him!" her dark green eyes pierced into Snape's like daggers into soft butter; however the stone man just snorted and continued his walk down the hallway.

Charles turned to watch him round the corner then glanced up at his mother who had completely calmed and was already pulling him toward her office door.

_Adults were strange people_ was the thought filling his mind as he followed his mother into her office.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore paced back and forth in his office with a fury that could have burned a ten-meter hole in the floor. His arms were clasped behind his back and his mouth set in a puzzled line. All together with his pacing and worried expression, the man was a picture of puzzlement. And with doubtless good reason. Sitting on his desk was a small slip of paper that had been delivered by an unknown source and contained something that had sent the esteemed headmaster pacing.

Finally Albus returned to his desk, as his feet were becoming sore, and picked up the thin paper. Soft flowing script that he knew had to belong to a woman marked the parchment. The message was written flamboyantly with many long unnecessary words that made it look important. Albus sighed deeply before tossing it back down and reaching for his wand. He had had every intention of incinerating the paper, but was interrupted by a splat made by an owl flying into the closed window.

Jumping up from his desk and hurrying over to the window, Albus picked the dizzy bird up from the window ledge and held it close to comfort it.

"You should be more careful, my little friend." He soothed, stroking the owl's soft feathers. With his free hand he pulled the parchment from the bird's leg and retrieved an owl treat for the dedicated carrier. "Now no more flying into windows." He said setting the bird back on the window ledge. The owl chirped slightly as though agreeing with the man and flew off. Albus watched the bird until it was a dot against the cloud streaked sky and then turned to see what the letter contained.

It struck him as odd that someone would send an owl out in the cruel weather, but he figured that it was important enough to warrant a few wet feathers. The letter was damp but a quick drying charm took care of that. Opening it with his muggle letter opener, Albus began to read the typed words. His heart almost came to a stop as the words sunk into his brain. Someone had found out a dangerous secret.

* * *

Charles was already bored. His mother's office was far from enthralling in the aspect of things to do. His gaze wandered over his mother's immaculate desk and he sighed. His mother was busy going over some other assignments that she had left behind and seemed to have forgotten all about him. Suddenly a rebellious thought kicked Charles in the side of the cerebellum and his frown turned upside down. Keeping an eye on his mother, Charles made his way over to the door and slipped out. The door clicked shut behind him and for the time being he was free to wander to halls of Hogwarts.

Running on down the hallway, Charles felt wonderful. No need for secrecy as everyone thought he was Professor McGonagall's nephew, who delightfully happened to have no magical training. He smiled at any student who passed him and cheerfully answered all questions asked of him, remembering the part he had sworn to play and enjoying it immensely.

Then he felt his joy bleed from his body and his heart dropped down into his sneakers. Right down the hallway, chatting away with several students was the trio. He swallowed as they hurried over to see him and tried to smile.

"Hey, Mattie!" Ron exclaimed, smiling a large toothy grin. Hermione and Harry were smiling as well.

"So, your aunt is letting you out now? Great." Harry said patting the boy on the back. "If you want to you can come to the Gryffindor Common room. We're playing games and stuff since its still raining." Charles felt instantly revived as the invitation hit home. These kids had asked if he wanted to play with them!

"Yeah, that would be fun." He pushed aside the idea that his mother would be worried about where he was and began to follow the trio down the hallway, chattering with them about different muggle and wizard games.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall rubbed her forehead as she finished checking a young Slytherin's paper. The student had a good grasp on the basics of transfiguration and she was thrilled to see that; however the terrible lack of punctuation in the paper had turned reading it into a nightmare.

"At least he knows to put periods at the end of sentences." She muttered finishing the last run on sentence that had gone on for a whole three paragraphs. "Paragraphs need to be indented."

Suddenly she remembered that she had brought her son with her and he was being unnaturally quiet. Glancing up from the paper, she noted the empty chair and immediately rose to seek him out. Her efforts were thwarted, however, when her office door flew open and her husband, Albus Dumbledore entered looking quite upset.

"Minerva!" he breathed after casting a silencing charm on the walls and door. "There is a spy in the school!" Minerva's eyes widened and the couple sat down in the chairs behind and in front of the desk to regain their speech.

"Are you certain?" she murmured, softly. He nodded and handed her the note he had brought with him.

She read it quickly and paled.

"You and our son will have to leave Hogwarts immediately."

* * *

**Author's note- This story, in case you didn't notice, does not follow the HP books timeline due to the fact I do not have the books and enjoy making up my own time lines. Therefore it is slightly AU and some things will be way out there. Thank you so much for all of you who have reviewed and please remember to point out any mistakes I make….**

**Merciful Heavens**


	18. Deep Sadness

Author's Brief Note-I am sick in bed with a fever and stomachaches…I can't even sit up…so please excuse me if this chapter has mistakes….

Chapter 18

Deep Sadness

Minerva rose from her desk and walked around to face Albus. He looked positively stricken with the idea that he would have to send his wife and son away. Laying a hand on his broad shoulder, Minerva sighed. A large warm hand soon covered hers and for a silent moment the couple simply comforted each other through the innocent clasp of hands.

"We could stay…but then." she trailed off as though she dread the words that she had almost muttered. "We could send him away." the sentence came out as a whisper, even so the words seemed to ring in Albus' ears as some of the worst he had ever heard.

"What?" He said, rising from the chair and gathering his wife into his arms. They had forgotten all about the door and the fact it was yet unlocked.

Minerva buried her face in his robe front and continued.

"His memory would have…to be." She stopped and began to cry, overcome by the thought of their painstakingly secured secret no longer being a secret. Albus tightened his embrace and bit his lip to keep from saying anything. It would be better if he waited.

"He would be safer and it would look like he had disappeared." Minerva said, softly but nonetheless more coherently than before.

"The letter said that he knew you had a son, my dear. How would sending him away and changing his memory help?" Albus asked, wiping the tears from his wife's face.

"I would no longer have a son." Strangely it was that simple. Albus closed his eyes and only a thread of self-control stopped the building tears from running down his face. He had to be strong for Minerva.

"If he went away and the spy no longer saw him…it would appear as though he had really been your nephew." Albus paused as the full meaning for all the words they had spoken became defined. If they sent their son away; they might never see him again.

The silence that filled the room was thick enough to see as a mist enveloping the desk, chairs and embracing couple. And it was all Minerva and Albus needed. Soon Minerva's tears were not alone in their falling and comfort had been tossed aside and replaced with a need to cry as the despair of the situation was deeper than the pits of Tarsus.

* * *

Charles laughed as he won yet another game of chess against yet another student. There was a general clapping to celebrate his victory and Hermione handed him a chocolate frog.

"Wow! You are really good at that game." A student announced, causing the assembled Gryffindors to laugh. Charles smiled and thanked him. He had played around with several different games and had too much candy as the students kept handing him more. It had been about an hour since he had "escaped" from his mother and guilt was beginning to seep into his conscious.

"I have to go." He exclaimed, suddenly. Jumping up from the floor, Charles dashed from the room and ran down the hallway. He could already picture his mother searching frantically for him. Suddenly just as he flew around a corner, he slammed into something. Rubbing his nose, which had received most of the pain of hitting into the man, Charles glanced up. It was the scary man who had made his mother angry. Charles' mouth fell open as the man seized his arm and all words drained from his mind.

The man marched him down the hallway, his long legs keeping the boy running to keep up with him. Charles had no idea where the man was taking him, but he only hoped his mother would be there. Although the man had a firm grip on his forearm and was literally dragging him, it was obvious he didn't want to hurt him as the grip neither dug into his skin nor hurt his arm joint.

"You, young man are in deep trouble." the man hissed. Surprisingly the man's yellowish teeth did not smell and Charles sighed as the man paused to look him over.

"I am Professor Snape and your resemblance to your aunt is astounding." He stated, his voice losing some of the bitter sarcasm, making it sound legitimate.

"Severus!" Someone shouted. Both Professor Snape and Charles turned to see Albus Dumbledore hurrying toward them. He looked quite worried and Charles instantly hung his head in shame at having worried both his father and mother.

"Minerva has been looking everywhere for him. Got herself into quite a state thinking he ran off somewhere." The Headmaster was breathing heavily and Charles felt the Potions Professor tighten his hold on his arm.

"I doubt Minerva would get very upset over her nephew going missing for an hour." Severus stated simply. Charles glanced up to find the man's eyebrows sky-high.

"Well I suppose she's just worried what her brother might say if she lost his son." Albus chuckled, holding out a hand for Charles to take. Professor Snape let the boy go and folded his arms over his chest.

"If she's so worried about him, tell her to keep a better eye on him." The man sneered, turning to billow down the hallway. Albus sighed deeply and looked down at his son.

"Charles, you should have said something." He whispered. Charles hung his head and said nothing. He already knew that.

The short walk back to his mother's rooms was just long enough to make Charles nervous about his punishment. His mother's punishments were usually something he could brush aside but, he had a feeling his father's discipline might hurt his bottom.

The door opened before Albus could even reach for the knob and a worried looking Minerva ushered them in. The door had no sooner clicked shut behind them than Charles felt his mother embrace him.

"Are you all right, love?" His mother asked, even though she had already felt for any broken bones. With the back on her hand, she checked his temperature and sighed when she found it normal.

"Minerva. He's fine." Albus stated, pulling his wife gently to her feet. "He needs to be disciplined now not cuddled." Charles felt his stomach knot at his father's words and he swallowed.

"Now." Albus said, rising to his full imposing height. "Horatio Charles McGonagall Dumbledore, if you ever do that again you will be severely punished. Now off to bed with you." Charles stood frozen to the carpet for a second, as he was certain he had missed something. Then he felt his head nod and his feet hurry him to his bedroom. Once there he shook his head at how strange his father and mother were sometimes and began to get ready for bed.

Albus sat down on the sofa and sighed. Minerva had gone into her bedroom and since she had closed the door, he had taken it that she hadn't wanted him to join her. Jumbled thoughts raced around inside his head; each longing to be untangled and woven into a logical order. Albus sighed again and glanced over at the clock to see what time it was. It was a bit early to go to bed, but then again he supposed his son deserved to go to bed early.

"Albus." He turned to see his lovely wife standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She smiled slightly and motioned for him to come over to her. Albus rose from the couch and easily made his way over to her. She clasped his hand in her's and led him through the doorway, closing the door behind him with a wave of her wand.

She was dressed in a decent white nightgown and her hair was loose down her back. The black curls against the white of the nightgown gave her a frail, delicate appearance and Albus gently wrapped an arm around her.

Kissing the top of her head, he smiled. "I love you, Minerva."

He left her then to close the drapes and she climbed into the bed. Albus smiled as she pulled the covers over her head, it was rare for her to act childishly. Climbing into the bed, he slid under the covers and pulled her over to his side. They lay in the dark for a silent moment, in each other's arms. Suddenly Minerva gasped.

"We could never see him again," she whispered, as though the thought had suddenly dawned on her. Albus tightened his hold on her and nodded.

"It would probably be best if we didn't." he muttered. A dreadful silence tiptoed into the bedroom and hovered over the room, its dark tongue licking at the drapes and floor while its breath caused a feeling of helplessness to creep into the room.

"What would I do without him?" Minerva breathed, clutching Albus' robe front. It was a question that no mother and no father should ever need to ask themselves…yet they all did. "If we send him away…he won't come to Hogwarts."

"Probably not, my dear." Albus said, his body stiff from trying to keep his tears at bay. It was dark enough to hide them, but he knew Minerva would cry if he did.

**Please review**


	19. Breaking Hearts

_Yes, this chapter was written at the same time as chapter 18, however it was quite late and I was tired and ill so I posted it at a later date—therefore please forgive any mistakes…_

-Chapter 19-

Breaking Hearts

Charles awoke to find his parents sitting on the couch waiting for him. Both his father and mother looked as though they had not slept last night and he immediately began to wonder what was wrong.

"Charles, my son." His mother began, beckoning for him to come closer to the couch. He complied and snuggled into her loving embrace. "Charles, there is something we need to tell you." She whispered.

A strange silence followed her statement as though she dared not say what she was about to.

"Perhaps we should read first." Albus suggested, holding out the poetry book. Minerva took it gratefully and the little family of three all looked down at the faded cover of the much-loved poetry book.

"Which one, love?" Minerva asked, her voice still no more than a whisper. Charles glanced down at his slippered feet. He could almost feel the sadness emanating from his mother and father and quite frankly it was making him nervous.

"The Heart one." He murmured finally. Soon his mother's unnaturally quiet voice sighed over the tense scene in the sitting room and Charles couldn't remember hearing a poem read so sadly.

"_My Heart's in the Highlands_

_By Robert Burns,_

_My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,_

_My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer -_

_A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;_

_My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go._

_Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North_

_The birth place of Valour, the country of Worth;_

_Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,_

_The hills of the Highlands for ever I love._

_Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow;_

_Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;_

_Farewell to the forrests and wild-hanging woods;_

_Farwell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods._

_My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,_

_My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer_

_Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe;_

_My heart's in the Highlands, whereever I go."_

When she finished, tears were dribbling down her pale cheeks and Charles was close to crying himself.

"What's wrong, Mama?" He asked, handing her the handkerchief she had set on the coffee table.

"Charles." His father intervened, drawing his attention away from Minerva. "Your mother and I have reached a decision. You remember when you were told about the war and the terrible person out there." The boy nodded. "It isn't safe for you to stay at Hogwarts anymore."

"So we're going to leave?" Charles stated. If they were going to leave Hogwarts, he could have his mother and father all to himself, and truthfully, it was a delightful idea. But his happiness died as he glanced back and saw how sad his parents were. They would be sad to leave the school, he thought sadly. Swallowing his own feelings, Charles wrapped his arms around his mother.

"But wont you be sad?" His mother began to cry harder and Charles could have sworn his father flinched.

"Love, we won't be going with you." His mother whispered. The air around Charles seemed to turn into cement and crush against him as the words rang through his ears.

"What!" He shouted, throwing all self-control and manner out the window. "You can't do that, Mama. You need me. I need you. You could come with me, no one would know. It would be okay. Don't send me away without you." Panic surged up and out of the boy as he clung to his mother, ranting on and on about why they shouldn't, couldn't send him away.

Soon his words were replaced with sobs and he hung in his mother's tight embrace and wept.

A sad ten minutes passed before Charles began to stop crying, his tears beginning to return to a verbal state. Only he felt angry now that his parents wanted to send him away.

"This is all your fault!" Charles said suddenly, turning to face his father. "You want Mama all to yourself! So that you can help her and do things with her. I get in the way!" He yanked his body out of his mother's arms and stomped into his bedroom, propelled by the anger that had fueled his unfair accusal of his father.

Minerva and Albus both sat, frozen on the couch. Neither parent had expected such a burst of rage to come from their son and it had shocked them to their cores. Slowly Minerva turned to Albus and gently hugged him, hoping to help heal the wounds Charles had inflicted with his words.

"He is only a child, Minerva." Albus stated, ironically trying to comfort her while she did the same for him. "I will speak to him once he has calmed a bit. It's just the shock." Minerva nodded in agreement. Both professors had a great deal of experience with children and knew fairly well how to deal with them.

"Still it is partially our fault, Tabby." Albus confessed. "We've spoiled him, greatly, by giving him your every moment of attention, and then again deprived him, by only giving him you. In a way, you're the only person he's ever really known. I have only been apart of his life for the past week or so. And the other people he has met or seen, do not even know his real name."

Minerva nodded sadly.

"Not our fault, Albus. My fault. I shouldn't have been so selfish."

"Selfish?" Albus repeated, alarmed. His arm wrapped tighter around his wife and he closed his eyes. "Don't say that." was all he managed to whisper before grief overwhelmed him.

It had been difficult for him, knowing his son was within walking distance from him at all times but unable to so much as briefly see him. And then there had been the frustration and blame he had piled on himself, for having fathered the boy at all. He told himself many times, when there had been nothing but the wind and his lonely heart to comfort him, that had he not married Minerva and had he allowed her to marry someone else, she and their son would be safe.

"Don't think it." Minerva stated suddenly as if reading his mind. "Even had we not had a son…we would still be in danger of losing each other."

"I was actually thinking what it would be like had I not bewitched you into marrying me." The wizard replied bitterly. His woman in his arms stiffened.

"You didn't bewitch me, Albus. I wouldn't have married anyone anyway. And in the end it would have been the same. We wouldn't know we loved each other, but we wouldn't want anything to happen to each other either."

"But…" Minerva silenced him by covering his mouth with her hand.

"No, Albus. I don't want to imagine my life without Charles or without you." And with that simple statement she unconsciously told Albus something that warmed and froze his heart all in the same instant. She was just like Charles; all she had in the world was her son, just as all he had was his mother. Albus finally realized that the distance he had kept from his wife and son had forced him to pay a terrible price-a place in their family.

"You will go with Charles." He said firmly, amazed at the fact he felt no jealously or sadness at the thought; only a fierce desire to make sure they both lived happily, even if it meant without him.

"What?" Minerva straightened to look into his eyes. "What about you?" she asked, sending a bubble of hope to surround the man's heart. "How will you be able to manage the school without me?" she continued, bursting the bubble almost as soon as it had formed.

"I will manage just fine, Minerva. What is important now is our son's safety and that requires you to be with him." He smiled then as he could almost see his wife trying to figure out another solution. "It can't be both ways, my dear. Charles was right. We both can't have you and he needs you more than I do." The last statement was a lie, but he ignored that.

"Is this best, Albus?" She asked, placing the entire decision on her husband. He nodded, gently stroking her hair.

"Yes. You and Charles will go to America. I'll have a friend prepare everything you'll need. I don't want you to work or travel. Just stay home and teach and play with Charles. That will keep you both safe."

"And you'll visit?" Minerva asked hopefully, staring now at her hands. Albus paused. His whole heart yearned to say yes, but his mouth instead said what his brain said was correct.

"No." And thus the once possible family plans that both Minerva and Albus had so long dreamed of were crushed into impossibilities.

* * *

_**Author's Plea- Please review…I understand that this chapter was long awaited and thus I would like comments to be sure I did not make any mistakes and that the story is unfolding correctly…**_

_**Merciful Heavens** _


	20. Unplanned Problems

Chapter 20

Unplanned Problems

Charles stared out of the window of his new home. It had been two months since his mother and he had left Hogwarts to live in America, and he was bored. It wasn't that there was nothing for him to do, but rather the fact that he had no one to do it with. Charles turned away from the window and sighed. His mother was napping in her room and the TV was playing a re-run of some American show that Charles had been watching.

"Nothing ever happens." He muttered, although he knew that there was as much truth in his statement as there was humour in Severous Snape. Making his way over to the couch, Charles sat down and picked up the remote. Pushing the button, he returned to trying to find something he wanted to watch.

An hour later, Charles turned around to glance down the hallway that led to the rest of the house. His mother's door was still closed.

"Why couldn't she nap later?" He muttered, once again speaking without thinking. His mother had been sleeping a lot more than normal and Charles was beginning to find it annoying.

Finally he heard the door click open and his mother emerged from her bedroom. She was dressed in her nightgown and a dressing robe and looked tired.

"Are you okay, Mama?" Charles asked, jumping up from the couch and tossing the remote on the chair nearby.

She nodded a yes and slowly made her way to the chair. As she approached, Charles noticed that her eyes had heavy dark rings under them and her face was paler than usual.

"Are you sick?" He asked. His mother shook her head as if to say no and then nodded a yes.

"But with some rest, I'll be fine, Charles." He looked at her sceptically and she smiled to encourage him. "Don't worry, love. Everything will be fine." And so Charles sat back down on the couch.

"Do you want to watch TV?" he asked her, although he figured she would say no. As usual she shook her head and got up to make her way into the kitchen.

"What do you want for lunch?" She asked. Charles sighed. Since house elfs were for magical people, they didn't have one now and he was quickly finding out that his mother had limited experience with muggle cooking. So far the extent of her culinary prowess was a sandwich and boxed macaroni and cheese. Other than that, Charles lived on toaster waffles and chicken nuggets that he could heat up in a muggle device called a microwave.

His mother refused to eat the packaged food, though and he shivered at the idea of eating another of her sardine sandwiches. Being a cat animagus had helped his mother establish certain a fondness for anything of the fish variety.

"Can I have a waffle?" But then he jumped up as he remembered that the last time his mother had made him a waffle, she had incinerated it by toasting it too long.

"Never mind, Mama. I can get it." He said pulling the frozen waffles from the freezer and plugging in the toaster.

She smiled.

"Don't want it burnt, Charles?" he hung his head slightly and she laughed. Then a still silence fell over them and they made their lunches without a word.

"Charles." His mother said softly as he placed his waffles on a plate. " I need to tell you something." Charles looked up and shrugged.

"What?" He dribbled some syrup on his plate.

"Do you want someone to play with, dear?" Charles gave his mother his complete attention.

"I can go to school!" He said, guessing at what she could say. She shook her head.

"No, that is too dangerous. No, I was thinking of something else." His mother paused. "How would you like a little brother?" Charles dropped the bottle of syrup.

* * *

Albus paced back and forth in his office. He had just finished reading a letter his friend in America had sent him. His son and wife were both happily settled in their house and so far there was no indication that anyone knew that they had gone there. He had had a difficult time trying to find a new Transfiguration professor and Hagrid was temporarily the head of Gryffindor. Already, the headmaster was missing his wife more than he could bear.

"At least she is safe." He whispered. But deep down he knew that he would never feel content with her safety as long as she was not with him. Taking a seat at his desk, Albus reached out to pick up a trinket. It had been charmed to appear as the other odd and ends that littered his desk, but he knew it was really a picture of Minerva. Even if someone figured out that it was charmed, no one would have found it too strange that the headmaster had a picture of himself and his deputy after all they had been good friend's for many years.

His finger traced the picture's smooth surface and watched as Minerva smiled. And that was all he needed. Albus sat up straighter and picked up the letters he needed to read.

-Eight months later-

Charles sat by a blue bassinette that sat on his mother's bed. His perfect baby brother was fast asleep in amidst the blankets. Charles reached out and touched the tiny baby's clenched fist. The baby yawned causing Charles to smile.

His mother was asleep on the bed not far from the bassinette. Giving birth to the baby had been very difficult for her and she had not even gotten out of bed since the day the baby had been born. It had been about three weeks since Charles had been made a big brother and a kind woman who was a Healer friend of his mother's had been taking care of them.

"Don't wake him up." He heard the Healer admonish softly. Charles climbed out of the bed and allowed the older woman to steer him out of the bedroom.

As usual, the woman prepared Charles a nice little lunch and he picked at it as she fed the baby a formula as his mother was too weak to nurse.

"Go on and eat your food, little one." Donea demanded, giving Charles a disapproving look. "You'll waste away."

"I'm not hungry." He murmured.

"That's not true. But I'll not force you." She sat back to continue feeding the baby.

When his mother had gone in labour, Charles had been instructed to call Healer Donea with their muggle phone. She had then apparated into the house and had only left to buy groceries since then. Charles had never asked the woman how his mother knew her or how she knew he was Horatio Charles McGonagall, but he figured it didn't matter.

The baby cooed softly as he finished his bottle and Donea laughed.

"He's a big boy." She said to no one in particular. Charles smiled.

"Yeah, he is." And Charles meant it. He loved the idea of having a baby brother. He had already made plans to teach the baby everything he knew and to be the best brother he could be to him. They were going to be the best of friends.

Charles had sat motionless for the hours that had passed once Donea had vanished into the bedroom and his mother had begun to give birth. Then he had heard a steady wail and Donea had let him into the room to see his brother. His mother had named the baby Luthando Michelin. Charles had already decided to call his brother Luthy by the time his mother had finished whispering his middle name.

There were only two things that made having a little brother sad for Charles. First of which, was that his father did not even know Luthy had been born and secondly, his mother was bedridden. All Charles could do was hope that time would make everything better. For the time being, he had more than enough to worry about as Donea was helping him learn to read and he wanted to surprise his mother by being able to read her favourite poem.

Just then, Donea placing Luthy back in his bassinette, which she had carried out to the kitchen, and hurrying to the bedroom interrupted Charles ponderings. Charles leaned over to make sure Luthy was comfortable in his bed. His mother had called for Donea while he was thinking and since he had become used to hearing her barely audible calls, Charles was fine just staying in the kitchen.

"Don't worry, Luthy." He assured the innocent baby. "Mama will be okay. She's just tired." The baby flailed his fist up over his head. Already Luthy had a head of fine black hair that looked delicate enough to blow away. Charles sat watching the baby for several minutes until Donea returned.

"What's wrong?" He asked. Surprisingly Donea did not reply. She sat down at the table and ran a gnarled finger over the baby's soft cheek.

"Poor little thing." She cooed. "Soon to be all alone." Charles was young and he did not fully understand everything that Donea meant by her statement but what he did understand frightened him. His eyes widened and he ran to his mother's bedroom door.

He pushed the door open and peered in half afraid that Donea had already pulled the blanket up over her head like in shows. Charles sighed with relief as the blanket moved slightly as his mother breathed.

"Charles." His mother said, her voice barely audible. Charles hurried over to the bedside and hugged her, ignoring how thin and cold she was.

"Mama, why did Donea say Luthy would be alone." He asked, tears forming in his eyes. His mother smiled a feeble but nonetheless true smile.

"Charles, I need you to listen." He nodded his head in a vigorous yes and waited.

"If I die, you will need to take care of your brother." A shaking hand stroked Charles head and he nodded again.

"I'll always take care of him, Mama." And his mother smiled, because she believed him.

* * *

Far away in England, Albus Dumbledore was having lunch in his office with a good friend. The man's name was Richard Coffer and it was he that Albus had entrusted the care of his family to.

Albus thought Richard looked guilty about something when he flooed into the office from his home in America, but said nothing as they both began to eat the wonderful lunch that the house elves had set up. Finally after five minutes of silence, Albus looked his friend in the eye.

"What is it?" He asked simply, his eyes losing their cheerful quality and holding a powerful glare. Richard folded his napkin and sighed as if pulling himself together.

"It's about Minerva. She didn't want me to tell you. In fact, she wanted to tell you herself, but…it just wouldn't work at the time." He paused and Albus wanted to strangle him for it. "You have another son, Albus. He was born about a month ago. Healthy and strong. She named him Luthando Michelin."

The room spun for a moment and then Albus smiled. He had another son. Sure he was another child that Albus could not see and play with, but someday he would probably come to Hogwarts and then, he would be able to teach him. _Luthando Michelin. _Just like Horatio Charles, the boy would be the son of a man who could do nothing with him but put him in danger by so much as seeing him.

"How is Minerva?" He asked. Richard sighed.

"She had a difficult labour. Albus, she has been bedridden since the boy was born. Donea is not very hopeful. Maybe you should go see her. She wants to see you. And its only right that you see your sons." But Albus never heard the last part, because he was already planning a trip. He had not been to America in a long time.

**Author's note- Forgive any mistakes…but point them out so I can change them…and you can do that when you review…**

**Cheerio**

**Merciful Heavens**


	21. Charles' Birthday

I am very sorry that this chapter took so very long to write... Let me know if you find any mistakes and I will edit it...

Chapter 21

-Charles' Birthday-

"Blow out the candles! And don't forget the wish." Donea said rocking the baby bassinet with her foot. Luthy was fast asleep, unaware of anything save his own inner eyelids.

Taking a deep breath, Charles blew out the eight candles that adorned the top of the chocolate cake and smiled as the smoke curled up into the air to write "Happy Birthday Charles" amid the wispy curls. But his happiness was short lived as he heard gentle weeping from the usually silent bedroom. Donea patted him on the back as she passed by him to close the door.

"Don't you worry about it, love." she comforted, lifting Luthy's bed up into her chubby arms. "Your father and mama both wished you a Happy Birthday." He nodded sadly and then began to pull the candles from the cake. Normally he and his mother would lick the frosting off the bottom of the candles, but he didn't want to since she wasn't there to do it with him.

Tossing the candles into the sink, Charles made his way toward his mother's bedroom door and opened it slowly hoping Donea would be too busy with Luthy to notice. He slipped into the room and shut the door behind him.

The room was dark as the windows were closed and the electric light that would have illuminated the entire room hung dim above the bed. Two figures were in the bed; one of them laying down, a mere bump in the thick covers against the other who sat, leaning against the head of the bed.

"Come here, son." Charles heard his father say. Needing no extra prompting, he hurried to the bed and climbed onto it, being careful not to jostle his sleeping mother.

"Did you like the candles?" Albus Dumbledore asked. Charles nodded despite the lack of light.

"Thank you." He murmured. Everything had changed so quickly; he thought sadly. And it was all his fault. If he had stayed inside of the room and had stayed away from the windows, maybe none of this would have happened. Of course, good things had happened. But the bad seemed to out weigh them.

Learning how is father was... Finally leaving that boring room... His baby brother... He had learned to read under Donea's heavy glare... But then all the good things vanished from his mind and he began to cry as the bad events seemed so much bigger.

Leaving his home... His mama was bedridden... He had been forgotten... Of course the last one was not true, but being only eight years old, Charles could not see that. He felt his father place a warm hand on his head to try and comfort him. But instead of it helping, it helped Charles shift the blame.

"This is your fault." the boy muttered. He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that they were not true, but a flickering fire of anger that had been threatening to consume him over the past several months finally burst into flames and he glared up at his father.

"If you had stayed away from us, this never would have happened."

His father's face was hidden by the darkness of the room, but Charles knew that he was probably shocked and hurt.

A tangible silence hung like moldy curtains about the father and son until a groan from amid the covers forced them to turn their attention away from each other.

Minerva had heard her young son's accusation, but she was partly delirious and easily believed that it was just a fantasy her weak mind had created. Two pairs of hands patted the covered gently about her thin body and two voices so very much alike despite the age difference tried to soothe her. She smiled a small but nonetheless sincere smile.

"My darling boys." she whispered.

Beth ran as fast as her legs could carry her over the hard packed earth. She was breathing heavily as she had been running for two hours already. Finally she dropped to a crouch behind a large bush and panted heavily, trying to catch her breath.

She had not joined Lord Voldemort, despite the fact that she had graduated some time ago. One little boy had not allowed her to sell herself away. And now she was attempting to save that same child.

It was funny, she thought. She didn't even know what the child's real name was and here she was risking her life to deliver a message. Figuring that she had rested long enough, the woman dashed back out into the gathering darkness.


	22. Memories

_Many thanks to my reviewers and my wonderful beta Grey-EyedGirl_

_Note- this chapter has detailed violence, and torture_

_+13_

_Chapter 22_

_Memories_

_Pain had flashed through her body; causing her to tremble and thrash on the hard stone floor. A foot was placed on her stomach to still her movements and she gasped as she looked up at the masked face. Fear flashed in her emerald eyes as she thought over what the man might want with attacking her. The mask only covered his eyes and nose; leaving two holes for him to see from and his mouth uncovered. He was smirking at her, his eyes glittering in the dim light afforded by his wand._

_"I know about your son." he hissed, lowering his wand to point at her throat and cancelling the crucio spell that had been, up until that point, coursing through her body. In an attempt to intimidate her, the assailant gently removed her glasses and trailed a hot finger down her pale cheek. She flinched as he licked his lips and lowered his body to hover mere centimeters over her own body._

_"I know about your husband." Another finger began to touch her neck; caressing the flesh. Her breath began to catch in her throat; fear forcing her to remain still. The fingers stroking her neck tightened into a stranglehold and Minerva finally began to fight back as the man began to choke her._

_Suddenly he stopped, standing up at almost the same time as he released her. She gasped trying to fill her lungs with air. She struggled to rise up from the floor but the man hit her across the face and she returned to her floor._

_"What do you want?" she asked, not sounding nearly as frightened as she was. The man chuckled roughly and knelt down to face her. _

_"What do I want? I want to see Albus Dumbledore suffer." And her world faded into black as he aimed a curse at her chest._

________________________

_Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk awaiting his wife's arrival. Usually she would have already arrived by now, but he was willing to assume that Charles may have been a bit of trouble this morning. He hummed softly to himself as he leaned back in his chair. He wanted to go down to her chambers and help her with their son; but he couldn't._

_After several dull moments of tapping his nails against the desk top, Albus finally gave up waiting and rose to exit the office. He muttered under his breath as he picked up his bag of sherbet lemons. His son loved the candy almost more than he did._

_He made his way down the hallway until he reached Minerva's chambers and knocked on the door. No answer was forthcoming. He knew that Minerva had instructed Yinny to not answer the door if she wasn't present and became worried. Not in all the years that they had been married, had Minerva not stopped by his office before they went to breakfast together. Then again, sometimes she liked to play with Charles a bit before coming._

_Worried, Albus banged on the door and then said the password, "Pigeon". The door opened and he rushed into the room in search of his wife. _

_"Minerva!" he shouted, entering the bedroom and heading for the nursery which was guarded by several wards that were charmed to allow only him, Minerva, Charles and Yinny entrance. _

_Yinny was seated in the rocker, his legs dangling over the edge of the chair as he rocked Charles, who was almost larger than him. It would have been a * comical sight, had Albus not been worried about where Minerva was. _

_"Yinny! Where is Professor McGonagall?" he asked, as calmly as he could under the circumstances._

_"Mistress Minerva is agoing to Mr. Headmasters, always same." Yinny responded, continuing to pat Charles on the back. "Sleeping baby." he murmured._

_"Thank you, Yinny." Albus stated, hurrying to the door. Minerva was missing._

_He ran down the hallway retracing his previous steps. She had to be in his office awaiting his arrival; she had to be. Albus was almost to his office when he tripped over something lying in the hallway and sprawled across the hard stone floor. Rubbing his poor nose, he rose into a sitting position and reached under his legs to grab whatever he had tripped over. It was a smooth object that he immediately knew was a wand; Minerva's wand._

_A shield shimmered momentarily as Albus rose to his feet and he heard a soft scream emit from the door not far down the hall. In an instant, Albus countered the shields and rushed into the room._

_The very blood in his veins froze before beginning to boil. In front of him on the floor, was his wife. She was bleeding from various injuries on her face and head and a pool of blood was spreading across the ground from unseen wounds else where on her body._

_Albus grabbed the masked man who was too busy enjoying casting curse after curse to see him and banged him against the nearest wall. All thoughts left his mind and were replaced by the image of his Minerva, lying on the stone floor helpless and bleeding. _

_"Avada Kedavra." He shouted, forgetting that it was an Unforgivable and that it would kill the man. The man fell to the floor, no longer important and Albus rushed to Minerva's side._

_"It's alright, my dear." He comforted, not sure whether or not to move her, but afraid to leave her there. Her pain-filled teary eyes were glazed over and he gathered her into his arms._

_"No one will ever hurt you again, Minerva." Albus swore, hurrying toward the infirmary. And although he was certain she couldn't hear him; she did._


	23. Almost Normal

My dear readers,

It is my dearest wish that you enjoy this chapter. Yes, it is not as long as some before it, but I am quite busy and my time is greatly divided.

Please review. I know it sounds awful of me to ask for reviews, but I adore hearing whether or not you enjoyed my story.

Humbly,

Merciful Heavens

Chapter 23

-Almost Normal-

_"Fate gave the word, the arrow sped, _

_And pierc'd my darling's heart; _

_And with him all the joys are fled _

_Life can to me impart. _

_By cruel hands the sapling drops, _

_In dust dishonour'd laid; _

_So fell the pride of all my hopes, _

_My age's future shade. _

_The mother-linnet in the brake _

_Bewails her ravish'd young; _

_So I, for my lost darling's sake, _

_Lament the live-day long. _

_Death, oft I've feared thy fatal blow. _

_Now, fond, I bare my breast; _

_O, do thou kindly lay me low_

_With him I love, at rest!"_

The last lilting sound of his mother's voice seemed to die as Charles relaxed by her chair. She had finally gained the energy needed to sit up and his father had moved her to a chair where she enjoyed to sit and read by the light of several small lamps.

It was difficult for Charles to ignore how his mother's hands shook as she read or how she often lost her place even while reading. Often she fell asleep mid-sentence and it was becoming increasingly common for her to ask him to read to her as if the effort of keeping the book up and reading the magically enlarged was too much for her. But for his mother, Charles said nothing.

It had been several months since his birthday and he was greatly enjoying the fact that he was now eight years old. His reading had improved to a point that he was able to read almost anything, unless it had very big words. His writing was coming along just as well and his father had begun to set out several arithmetic problems for him to solve and so his education began to take shape.

"Can you read one more, Mama?" Charles asked, carefully noting that his mother had yet to put the large book down. It had been charmed to become weightless and the pages turned themselves on command. His father had suggested that the book simply float in front of her, but she insisted that there was no substitute for holding a book whilst reading.

"Of course, my bairn. Which would you like?" Charles rose from the floor to lean over his mother's shoulder.

"The Fairy Dance is nice." his mother nodded and the pages flipped themselves back until the desired poem surfaced.

"_The Fairy Dance _

_by Carolina Eliza Scott _

_The fairies are dancing — how nimbly they bound! _

_They flit o'er the grass tops, they touch not the ground; _

_Their kirtles of green are with diamonds bedight, _

_All glittering and sparkling beneath the moonlight._

_Hark, hark to their music! how silvery and clear —  _

_ 'Tis surely the flower-bells that ringing I hear, —  _

_The lazy-wing'd moth, with the grasshopper wakes,  _

_ And the field-mouse peeps out, and their revels partakes._

_How featly they trip it! how happy are they  _

_ Who pass all their moments in frolic and play,  _

_Who rove where they list, without sorrows or cares,   _

_And laugh at the fetters mortality wears!_

_But where have they vanish'd? — a cloud 's o'er the moon,  _

_ I'll hie to the spot, — they'll be seen again soon —  _

_I hasten — 'tis lighter, — and what do I view? —   _

_The fairies were grasses, the diamonds were dew._

_And thus do the sparkling illusions of youth  _

_ Deceive and allure, and we take them for truth; _

_ Too happy are they who the juggle unshroud, _

_  Ere the hint to inspect them be brought by a cloud."_

Albus watched his son and wife from the doorway of the room. In his arms he carried his youngest son, Luthy, as he had been affectionately nicknamed by Charles. The young infant was asleep, his tiny fist settled under his rosy cheek. With his lips open slightly, Luthy was a lovely baby, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as sweet as the fragile dew found laced on the flowers at sunrise.

Happy to see Minerva reading again, although unable to do much else, Albus entered the room to stand beside her chair. Weakly, his wife set aside the book and lifted her arms for the baby. Her eyes shone with joy as the infant cooed in his sleep and batted at the air with a clenched fist. Soon, with Luthy settled lovingly in her arms, Minerva began to drift off to sleep.

Charles smiled and smoothed the blanket that was wrapped loosely about his younger brother to ward off the cold. He could hardly wait for the baby to grow up.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Albus immediately rose, painfully aware of the fact that they were not expecting visitors and Donea was visiting her sister for the duration of the week. Drawing his wand from his pocket, he motioned for Charles to close the door behind him. The boy did as he was instructed and Albus approached the door with stealth that would have shamed a fox.

His long fingers curled around the door knob and he opened it a crack. A girl with a cloak pulled over her shoulders and hair stood under the shadow of the doorway. There was something about her that was vaguely familiar; but he couldn't place it.

Casting a simple glamour spell to mask his voice and face, Albus peered out at her.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

The girl looked up and said in a rush words that froze and enflamed his heart at the same time.

"Professor Dumbledore! They're coming!"

**Auth****or's note- The first poem is by Robert Burns, it is called **_**A Mother's Lament For the Death of Her Son**_**. I do not own it or the **_**Fairy Danc**_**e by Carolina Eliza Scott. Please review! **


	24. Kill herStun her

Chapter 24

"Kill her...Stun her"

Albus pulled the young woman into the house and held her captive against the wall his his arm. His wand went to point it's deadly head at her throat and her eyes strayed down to stare at it in silent horror. She had not been expecting such a hostile welcome, but then again, what had she been expecting?

"Who is coming and why are they coming?" Albus hissed between tightly clenched teeth. He had to appear in control and powerful. He could not look afraid for his family or even unsure of what to do to save them. Of course he was not called the Greatest Wizard of the Age for no reason, and he had instantly recognized the girl as not only a former student, but one secretly connected to Voldemort sympathizers.

"Death eaters. About ten of them. Please, Professor. I don't know much, but someone knows something and I want to help." She was trembling with fear; fear of what the irate wizard might do to her if he thought she wasn't trustworthy. And maybe even fear of what would happen to the boy if she was not successful in warning him. But she pushed that thought away. Nothing will happen to him, Beth. He's perfectly safe. Professor McGonagall can take care of him. But she wasn't entirely certain.

"Why are they coming?" It was a simple question and yet so much rested in its words. The answer: Beth was torn. How was she to respond to it? Was it a test? What if she answered wrongly. Would he kill her or stun her or...? Snap out of it Beth. She told herself again and again.

"Someone found out about McGonagall's son. They know he's here with her..." she trailed off as the blue eyes of her captor flared into flames. "And you." There. She had said it all, placed her life on the line and told the truth.

Albus released the shaking girl and hurried back into the other room. He did not fully trust the girl, but whatever her motives were for coming to him, he had to believe that they were not selfish. He could have as easily have killed her as seen her and he knew that she was aware of that fact. The fear in her eyes had said that much.

Charles sat, waiting for his father to reappear and careful not to make any noise. When the door swung open and his father appeared, he was certain something terrible was about to take place. There was an almost haunted expression in his father's azure eyes. Something terribly frightening.

"Charles, Hurry and get Luthy." his father said, his voice stiff from anxiety. Charles hastened to do as he was told and scooped his sleeping brother into his arms. Although heavy, Luthy was easier to carry than most burdens and Charles pulled the blanket tighter.

Beth was too frightened to follow Professor Dumbledore into the other room and so she peeked out of the window and tried desperately to see if anyone was approaching the house. So far she hadn't seen anyone. There was a soft infant's wail from the other room and Beth turned, entranced. A baby? Where was there a baby? But Beth was intelligent to figure out why a baby might be there. And the answer frightened her even more than Albus Dumbledore's wraith.

If her two former professor's were married, then the boy must be their son...they had another child now and Lord Voldemort knew it. The world suddenly looked more dark and frightful than it had before.

She watched as the little boy emerged from the room carrying a wrapped bundle that could only be a baby. A white fist batted the air as the boy cautiously approached her and she smiled at the infant's obvious stubborn nature.

"You're the girl from the window." Charles stated, curious about what was going on and frightened by the girl's sudden appearance.

She nodded as if an agreement was necessary. Her eyes drifted back to the door as Professor Dumbledore hurried from the other room, carrying a pale Professor McGonagall.

Beth was struck speechless at the woman's appearance. She had never seen her as anything than the formidable, beady-eyed Transfiguration professor. Now she saw a frightened, pale woman with long wavy black hair that gave her such a look of innocence and youth, she looked like a child. Her small slender hands were gripping the front of Dumbledore's muggle shirt as if her life depended on it and her whole body shook gently.

"Is she ill, sir?" Beth asked softly. Professor Dumbledore nodded simply and motioned for his son and her to follow him out the back door. They hurried along a simple country road until they came to a parked car, a muggle vehicle used as most muggle's main means of transport.

Charles, having never ridden in a car before, happily gave the girl Luthy as he climbed into the front seat and buckled the seatbelt as they always did on TV. His father laid his mother gently on the back seat and tucked Luthy into her arms. The girl settled herself on the seat so that her lap cushioned his mother's head and although she looked awkward, seemed happy to have been allowed into the car.

Albus quickly made sure that his wife was comfortable and then hastened to the right front door to start the engine. The starter clicked almost immediately as it had been charmed to do, and the car silently came to life. As Albus check for traffic, his eyes wandered to the former student in the back seat.

It went against his better judgement to take her with his family, but some part of him couldn't abandon her. She was a person and no matter if she was somehow connected to the whole thing, which he knew she had to be, he was going to help her.

Author's note...terrible chapter? Awful writing? Endless rambling? let me know...review.


	25. The Fire

Chapter 25

The Fire

There was the terrible screech of rubber wheels on hard cement. A black haze of smoke rising from the friction caused by the tremendous speed and then it was silent. Rubber, steel and cement became as one...a grave.

Albus awoke, sweat beading on his forehead and slowly being to trail down his neck. They had stopped to sleep for the night, and Albus had done his best to remain awake. Leaning forward, he sighed against the stirring wheel. There was a soft murmur of breathing in the back seat and he smiled softly as he turned to see his family.

Charles had climbed into the back and was happily slumbering with his arms wrapped around his mother. Due to being such a small baby, Luthy had been placed in a bundle of blankets and cushions in the front seat beside Albus. Since they were not going anywhere, it was a perfectly safe location for the infant.

Albus carefully tucked a bit of blanket around his small son, smiling when the baby yawned, his little cheeks puffing from air intake. Nothing was so uplifting and marvelous as to look into the small face of your child. But then the charm was broken by a moan.

Looking back, Albus saw that Minerva was having a nightmare. Charles being such a deep sleeper, he was easily able to pull the boy aside, laying him on the car floor. Beth was another story however. The girl had fallen asleep and slept like the dead, no doubt having not slept in awhile. Thankfully, Minerva's head was only cushioned on her lap and Albus had merely to open the door in order to lift his wife out.

Charles levitated onto the seat which his mother had only just vacated and Albus gently woke Minerva, who was nestled in his arms, bridal style.

She awoke, obviously startled, her green eyes wide with fear and anger. The second of which surprised Albus, although it did not worry him. The fact that Minerva may slowly be returning to her old self, brought a surge of hope to his heart and he smiled at her briefly as he conjured a small couch for them to sit on.

They had lived so close to each other for so many years...only to end up being chased through the woods in a muggle automobile in order to be able to spend time together. It was sad and yet joyful all in the same moment.

"Where are we?" Minerva asked, softly. Albus sighed.

"Safe...for now." he murmured, kissing her forehead. "Do not worry about it, love." the last thing she needed was to worry. He could do enough for both of them.

Slowly Minerva fell asleep once more, secure and held tightly in her husbands arms.

---

The night was soon replaced with the rising sun and it was greeted by the twittering birds amid the forest trees. Albus already had planned to return to Hogwarts. He would be able to protect his family there better than in America.

They were only safe here unknown...and that had already been proven to be no longer true.

Beth did not say anything as Albus explained his decision to Minerva. She had far too much guilt and fear to even venture a word. Guilt for spying on the family before her and fear for what they or the death eaters would do to her if they were caught.

On the other hand, Charles hardly remained silent. He had stared at Beth for a good ten minutes before making his way to Luthy and taking the infant's limp hand. He couldn't wait until the baby was old enough to do things...beside whine and cry that was. He talked to his brother about the things around them. The birds singing in the trees, the bugs crawling on the floor and even the trees around them did not escape the young boy's notice. And although Luthando was fast asleep, he no doubt appreciated the long talk from his older brother.

After a brief meal of crackers and sardines, which Charles turned his nose up at first but then ate all the same, Albus prepared their portkey. He planned to have Beth carry Luthy and he would then carry his wife with Charles holding tightly to his robes. After they arrived at Hogwarts... he would have a long chat with Beth, while Poppy cared for Minerva.


End file.
